Hello,
Another 2 weeks and other stories ...
***** Twilight Zone/House Cleaning *****
I live in a round hut with a grass roof in a
compound of 9 houses. In Africa it seems that
houses are set in compound style.
My house is actually kind of nice as I have
placed some pictures on the wall and the
place is pretty cool on the hot days. It is
home.
But ...
I haven't been living alone ... I have had
company for about 2 months ... yup ... the
type of company that doesn't want to go
away ... yup again ... FROGS.
When I lived in El Salvador I also had
guests of the frog type ... a little family of
about 5 frogs that would hop out at about
6 at night and return at daybreak. They
weren't really that bad ... it was kind of cute
to watch the Central American frogs ... it was
kind of like Ozzie and Harriet. As the little
family would hop out at night to go eat ... etc.
But here ... it is a little different ... about
2 months ago I noticed a couple of frogs
hopping out of the house at night and figured
... it was like the Central American experience
and that I would have a few frogs.
It didn't happen that way as after a month
it looked like there were 30 frogs coming and
going. Of course it ultimately hit a point where
there had to be at least 80 frogs in my hut.
The last straw was when I got up in the
night and stepped on one (kind of a spongy
feeling under foot) ... that is where the lines
where drawn.
So, the battle began ... the next day I started
taking everything apart and let me tell you ... they
were everywhere. Almost everything I touched jumped.
I am fasting for the holy month of Ramadan
and I am hungry, thirsty and hot. So after about
an hour I clean up half the hut. In the afternoon I
start on the other side. This was the worst side
and actually took an hour and a half to evict the
little moochers. They were hopping everywhere.
Everything seemed great till ... night time.
Here they come again ... I usually sleep with
my back door open and I even closed it to hopefully
prevent them coming in. Didn't work as in the middle
of the night I did a flashlight search and saw them
all over the place. What it was was the door of the hut
has an opening large enough to let about 5 in
at a time. So I get up ... place rags in the crack and
figure things are going to be OK. About 15 minutes
later I hear this scratching at the door. It was a real
freaky noise. I get up ... put on the flashlight ...
and see in the crack of the door the frogs stacked
3 high trying to get in. The creepy part was
watching the top frog with one eye and a hand
reaching through the crack. I thought that this
was like one of the horror movies.I opened the
door and there was about 20 frogs trying and
waiting to get in. I took my broom and I thought
that I was shoveling crap against the tide as as I
evicted 1, 3 others sneaked in. Finally after an
hour it was under control.
So next night I am sitting in the back yard
with my counterpart Demba and the frogs start
coming back again. Each one that enters I chase
down and kick them out. Then Demba says
" Ado jogii lamndam" ... do you have salt?
So he takes the salt and throws it in the corners
under the bed ... etc. He says " watch this" ...
I'll be damned but the frogs entered and then
came hopping out like the had 4 hot feet.
I mean that they flew out of there. We sat
there for 2 hours not saying a word and just
watching the action. I guess that is stuff
one does when there is no TV or electricity.
Watching a frog control system in action
... salt.
I just sat there thinking that if I was in the
developed world I would have gone to Home-
Depot and bought some high tech laser guided/
collateral damage proof/environmentally friendly/
low impact frog eviction system.
Needless to say I was tickled to see that
about 4 cents worth of salt did the job just fine.
***** Ramadan and a New Respect *****
It is the holy month of Ramadan and this is
my first experience with anything Muslim. So,
seeing as I am the only non-Muslim in the village
for about a week leading up to Ramadan I had
everyone asking me " A hodat?" ... am I going
to fast. Fasting is from daybreak to sundown
(more or less) and it consists of not eating and
the worst, not drinking. So I said "haa" ... yes
I am going to fast.
Let me tell you ... I have a really truly new
found respect for the Muslim people and Ramadan.
Let me say it this way " it ain't easy". It is hot, and
we still work , though slower, by the afternoon I
just lay around reading and sleeping. People
lose patience and actually had 2 wives of the
same guy go at it pretty good. They brought the
bleeding one to my hut for treatment and she
had a 3 inch cut over her brow as the #1 wife
hit her with a stick but #2 wife dislocated
the elbow of #1.
Ramadan is actually a month of Peace and
tranquility, of giving and of not speaking badly
of others. The incident above was actually the
first time anything like that happened.
Oh yeah ... the argument ... #1 wanted #2
to go get water at the well.
I am glad that I am fasting as I can relate
to the people during the day and understand
and learn about what I don't know.
I am not claiming to say that I know
everything about the Muslim religion but I am
learning.
If only in the world today, with the problems
we have, people could walk a little in the
shoes of others and be able to understand and
relate to people with different beliefs.
Maybe then we can get to the root of problems
instead of categorizing without knowing what we
are talking about.
It is funny but I get asked about 20 times a
day if I am fasting and when I say I am, they
shake my hand and some even have said
"thank you".
I guess there is many different paths in
this road of life ... I am learning that everyone
choses the one they want ... Peace.
Paul
Senegal
West Africa
Monday, November 13, 2017
House cleaning - 11 November 2003
Saturday, November 11, 2017
More of what's going on - 27 October 2003
Hola;
Again it has been 2 weeks since coming in from the
village and life as everywhere else in the world goes on.
So here are a few more stories of what has been
happening.
***** Tidda's life *****
In the village there is this beautiful young girl
named Tidda. She is 17 and immediately when
you look at her you can tell that she is just a little
different from the other girls. She always has a smile
and she just seems to be at peace with her life.
Of course this seems like an impossibility seeing
as I don't know very many people (including myself)
that are in that pretty good category. So when one
sees Tidda it kind of makes you feel happy.
Till one day ...
I was out in the garden (which is near the well)
and I see Tidda come up with her bucket and I can
see by her face that she is truly troubled. So, I ask
her "Tidda how are you today?" and she responds
"fine", which I know isn't right.
About 2 hours later her father (Amadou Diao)
come over to hang out for a while like he usually
does. I can see that he isn't very much at peace
either so I ask "Amadou, what's up ?". He starts
explaining about Tidda. What was happening was
that Tidda (Amadou's daughter) was promised to
to a man of about 40 to 45 years old. I know that in the
U.S. this is quite a sensitive thing ... but in Africa
(well ... Senegal anyways) it is typical. I knew
something was up when I saw this guy (40 to
45 year older) hanging around her house. In a
village of 300 it is pretty easy to tell who the
visitors are. So I ask Amadou " who is this guy?".
He starts by explaining the situation about Tidda
and this guy (Mamadou). It starts like this ...
Mamadou and Amadou grew up together in
the village and were inseparable as kids. Mamadou's
family still lives in the village and Mamadou is a
teacher in a private school somewhere in or near
Dakar. What had happened last year was that
Mamadou asked Amadou if he could marry Tidda and
Amadou said yes.
Well ...
Mamadou shows up and says that he wants to
get married in 10 days. Tidda ... is not happy ...
wants no part of this guy ... and it is pretty obvious
to see ... as it was written all over her face.
Also ... to Amadou, now that the time is here, he is
definitely troubled about it. He couldn't sleep for
a few days and even though he said yes last
year, he realizes that it isn't right. Now, for a man
to think that way here in an African village is not
the norm. Usually the girl is just given away.
So ... Amadou comes over and wants to talk
... we talked for over 2 hours and I let him tell me
what he thought. I have to say that I now respect
Amadou a lot. He doesn't want Tidda to waste her
life and he doesn't want her to not be happy and
he wants her to marry for love and to make her
own decision. This sounds like a natural easy
train of thought. For other continents and countries
it is ... but in Africa it is revolutionary. For thinking
this way Amadou is taking a bunch of flak ...
which starts from his wife (who wants her to marry the
guy so that they can get some money from him)
and she got mad and took off to her native
village for a few days. Also Mamadou's family is saying
"you promised her, didn't you" to a childhood friend.
Added to this pressure are some of the
men in the village telliing him to just give her away.
But he is standing up to them and he told Tidda
" I haven't had money my whole life but you have
had food, a roof over your head and I have done
my best, but one thing that I can give you is the
right to make your own decision". He told me
that he's always been poor and that the guy's
money wouldn't make him happy if Tidda would
have to live her life miserably.
So, as it goes now ... everything is held off
till next June ... He wants Tidda to go to school
and he even built a desk for her to study on ...
it actually took him 3 days of searching for wood,
nails ... etc. to put it together. Next June the guy
will return and Tidda will tell him what she wants to
do.
I see in the papers and hear on the radio how
people throw out the word hero like it is 2 cents.
Yes, there are heros ... but is it someone who
hits a home run? ... or someone who is a multi-
billionaire? I am going to describe my interpretation
of a hero. He is a little 120 pound man, who has
nothing, lives in a village of Goundaga in Senegal
and does what he truly believes is right. Despite
all the people, customs and pressure that are against
him. Because he believes that his daughter should
have a chance at the life she wants.
Time will tell and I will fill in you in on how
Tidda made out ... next year.
***** This could save a life *****
I live in a section of Senegal that is
predominately Pulaar. So as each culture,
tribe, ethnic section has it's own unique
custom ... so do the Pulaars. When I was
in training in Thies a girl who was a volunteer
here but finished and was conducting a few
training sessions said. Those Pulaars have this
thing that they do when they want to make fun
of someone. So I said ( seeing as I am going to live
in a Pulaar section of the country) "what is it?".
She tells me " they tell you that you eat beans ".
I said " what does that mean?" ... she says that
it refers to people with money who pass gas. Seeing
as beans are about a dollar fifteen cents for a kilo
it is considered pricey.
So after about 2 months we head out to check
out our sites and as we are returning to Thies after
the visit we stop at a gare in Tambacounda. A gare
is a bus/7 palaas garage. Well there are kids there
called Talibe ... Talibes are kind of a poor man's
monk. They have what they call a Marabou who is
a spiritual teacher (of the Koran) ... and the Talibes
stay at the Marabou's house and go out and beg for money
during the day. Well at the gare we stopped and
bought some cookies and of course us being Toubobs
(white people) we are swarmed by the Talibes. So
we give out cookies and there is one talibe kid that
doesn't get one. So ... he demands a cookie and
we say "sorry they are all gone". So the kid says
" a namii niebe " which means you eat beans. Boy
did we laugh and actually gave the kid some money
just for the entertainment value.
Also each on of us gets a Senegalese name and
mine is Boubacar Balde. But it seems that the Baldes
and the Diallos (another last name) have this verbal
feud going. The Diallos call the Baldes thieves and the
Baldes call the Diallos bean eaters. It is really humurous
but I have never seen anyone get fighting mad.
To keep the theme of bean eating here, I can relate
bean eating with my most embarrassing African moment.
Last week I was riding my bicycle back from Velingara
and I had something to eat before I left at around 2 in the
afternoon. Actually the plate was a great tasting mixture
of rice and meat. I am not used to eating meat and my
stomach was a little upset. So as I am riding back with
about 20 minutes left I am cruising along a (what I thought)
deserted stretch of highway. There was a little incline and
so I stand up on the pedals to give it a little extra effort and
all of a sudden (and to my surprise) I pass gas but with quite
a lot of noise to go with it. No sooner that I sit back on the
seat and up along side of me on a bicycle comes this
middle age guy with his 2 front teeth missing and he
is swerving all over the place because he is laughing
so hard. Man, I am shocked and embarrassed and all
I could do was say " mi namii niebe " which means
I ate beans. I don't know why I said that because
I didn't eat beans. Of course I am worried that he is
going into town and is going to tell everyone that the
Toubob passed gas. I would be easy to point out seeing
as I was the only Toubob around. But luckily he met a
friend and stopped ... I sped up to get the heck out of
there. I think I will always look around first.
But the reason why this could save a life is that the
next time that anyone may want to give an obscene hand
gesture which could instigate some crazy road rage
incident. Instead just look the person straight in the
face and say " hey guy ... you eat beans ".
Paul
Senegal
West Africa
Again it has been 2 weeks since coming in from the
village and life as everywhere else in the world goes on.
So here are a few more stories of what has been
happening.
***** Tidda's life *****
In the village there is this beautiful young girl
named Tidda. She is 17 and immediately when
you look at her you can tell that she is just a little
different from the other girls. She always has a smile
and she just seems to be at peace with her life.
Of course this seems like an impossibility seeing
as I don't know very many people (including myself)
that are in that pretty good category. So when one
sees Tidda it kind of makes you feel happy.
Till one day ...
I was out in the garden (which is near the well)
and I see Tidda come up with her bucket and I can
see by her face that she is truly troubled. So, I ask
her "Tidda how are you today?" and she responds
"fine", which I know isn't right.
About 2 hours later her father (Amadou Diao)
come over to hang out for a while like he usually
does. I can see that he isn't very much at peace
either so I ask "Amadou, what's up ?". He starts
explaining about Tidda. What was happening was
that Tidda (Amadou's daughter) was promised to
to a man of about 40 to 45 years old. I know that in the
U.S. this is quite a sensitive thing ... but in Africa
(well ... Senegal anyways) it is typical. I knew
something was up when I saw this guy (40 to
45 year older) hanging around her house. In a
village of 300 it is pretty easy to tell who the
visitors are. So I ask Amadou " who is this guy?".
He starts by explaining the situation about Tidda
and this guy (Mamadou). It starts like this ...
Mamadou and Amadou grew up together in
the village and were inseparable as kids. Mamadou's
family still lives in the village and Mamadou is a
teacher in a private school somewhere in or near
Dakar. What had happened last year was that
Mamadou asked Amadou if he could marry Tidda and
Amadou said yes.
Well ...
Mamadou shows up and says that he wants to
get married in 10 days. Tidda ... is not happy ...
wants no part of this guy ... and it is pretty obvious
to see ... as it was written all over her face.
Also ... to Amadou, now that the time is here, he is
definitely troubled about it. He couldn't sleep for
a few days and even though he said yes last
year, he realizes that it isn't right. Now, for a man
to think that way here in an African village is not
the norm. Usually the girl is just given away.
So ... Amadou comes over and wants to talk
... we talked for over 2 hours and I let him tell me
what he thought. I have to say that I now respect
Amadou a lot. He doesn't want Tidda to waste her
life and he doesn't want her to not be happy and
he wants her to marry for love and to make her
own decision. This sounds like a natural easy
train of thought. For other continents and countries
it is ... but in Africa it is revolutionary. For thinking
this way Amadou is taking a bunch of flak ...
which starts from his wife (who wants her to marry the
guy so that they can get some money from him)
and she got mad and took off to her native
village for a few days. Also Mamadou's family is saying
"you promised her, didn't you" to a childhood friend.
Added to this pressure are some of the
men in the village telliing him to just give her away.
But he is standing up to them and he told Tidda
" I haven't had money my whole life but you have
had food, a roof over your head and I have done
my best, but one thing that I can give you is the
right to make your own decision". He told me
that he's always been poor and that the guy's
money wouldn't make him happy if Tidda would
have to live her life miserably.
So, as it goes now ... everything is held off
till next June ... He wants Tidda to go to school
and he even built a desk for her to study on ...
it actually took him 3 days of searching for wood,
nails ... etc. to put it together. Next June the guy
will return and Tidda will tell him what she wants to
do.
I see in the papers and hear on the radio how
people throw out the word hero like it is 2 cents.
Yes, there are heros ... but is it someone who
hits a home run? ... or someone who is a multi-
billionaire? I am going to describe my interpretation
of a hero. He is a little 120 pound man, who has
nothing, lives in a village of Goundaga in Senegal
and does what he truly believes is right. Despite
all the people, customs and pressure that are against
him. Because he believes that his daughter should
have a chance at the life she wants.
Time will tell and I will fill in you in on how
Tidda made out ... next year.
***** This could save a life *****
I live in a section of Senegal that is
predominately Pulaar. So as each culture,
tribe, ethnic section has it's own unique
custom ... so do the Pulaars. When I was
in training in Thies a girl who was a volunteer
here but finished and was conducting a few
training sessions said. Those Pulaars have this
thing that they do when they want to make fun
of someone. So I said ( seeing as I am going to live
in a Pulaar section of the country) "what is it?".
She tells me " they tell you that you eat beans ".
I said " what does that mean?" ... she says that
it refers to people with money who pass gas. Seeing
as beans are about a dollar fifteen cents for a kilo
it is considered pricey.
So after about 2 months we head out to check
out our sites and as we are returning to Thies after
the visit we stop at a gare in Tambacounda. A gare
is a bus/7 palaas garage. Well there are kids there
called Talibe ... Talibes are kind of a poor man's
monk. They have what they call a Marabou who is
a spiritual teacher (of the Koran) ... and the Talibes
stay at the Marabou's house and go out and beg for money
during the day. Well at the gare we stopped and
bought some cookies and of course us being Toubobs
(white people) we are swarmed by the Talibes. So
we give out cookies and there is one talibe kid that
doesn't get one. So ... he demands a cookie and
we say "sorry they are all gone". So the kid says
" a namii niebe " which means you eat beans. Boy
did we laugh and actually gave the kid some money
just for the entertainment value.
Also each on of us gets a Senegalese name and
mine is Boubacar Balde. But it seems that the Baldes
and the Diallos (another last name) have this verbal
feud going. The Diallos call the Baldes thieves and the
Baldes call the Diallos bean eaters. It is really humurous
but I have never seen anyone get fighting mad.
To keep the theme of bean eating here, I can relate
bean eating with my most embarrassing African moment.
Last week I was riding my bicycle back from Velingara
and I had something to eat before I left at around 2 in the
afternoon. Actually the plate was a great tasting mixture
of rice and meat. I am not used to eating meat and my
stomach was a little upset. So as I am riding back with
about 20 minutes left I am cruising along a (what I thought)
deserted stretch of highway. There was a little incline and
so I stand up on the pedals to give it a little extra effort and
all of a sudden (and to my surprise) I pass gas but with quite
a lot of noise to go with it. No sooner that I sit back on the
seat and up along side of me on a bicycle comes this
middle age guy with his 2 front teeth missing and he
is swerving all over the place because he is laughing
so hard. Man, I am shocked and embarrassed and all
I could do was say " mi namii niebe " which means
I ate beans. I don't know why I said that because
I didn't eat beans. Of course I am worried that he is
going into town and is going to tell everyone that the
Toubob passed gas. I would be easy to point out seeing
as I was the only Toubob around. But luckily he met a
friend and stopped ... I sped up to get the heck out of
there. I think I will always look around first.
But the reason why this could save a life is that the
next time that anyone may want to give an obscene hand
gesture which could instigate some crazy road rage
incident. Instead just look the person straight in the
face and say " hey guy ... you eat beans ".
Paul
Senegal
West Africa
Friday, November 10, 2017
The Biggest Smile - 13 October 2003
Here in the village the young girls (even though
they don't have much) do what any other young girl
would do. You know ... primp their hair ... wash their
clothes ... ALWAYS dress up ... even if they are
only going to the village over. Also, they wash up
before and after they play soccer.
If we are going to another village to play ... they dress
up with their best dresses (which are really pagnas
--- beautiful colored cloth) ... which they wear over
their sports wear. It is really something to see ...
all the colors.
Of course they way they dress up to leave even to
the next village makes me embarrassed to think that
I used to go food shopping on a Saturday in my not
so best sweat suit. I don't think I am going to do that
again ... seeing as I can see what a difference dressing
neatly can do for a person.
A huge (I mean huge) part of primping is the hair ...
striking to see when they're done. Also it isn't just
braiding hair, it is a social event too. In the afternoons
after lunch you can see a bunch of girls get together
sitting and braiding and talking and just spending the time.
Well there is this one young girl of about 12 or 13 who
really doesn't have a cent. And for here to get anything
is a big thing. One of the techniques that the girls use
while braiding their hair is that of adding extensions. And
the way they incorporate it into the hair is really amazing.
But ... of course ... one has to buy the extensions ... and this
girl usually doesn't have a cent to do a thing. Somewhere
in all this she gets the money and buys the hair that suffices
for the extension work. (I think that the cost of the package
was 33 cents US).
Well her and her friends are at it for about 6 hours and I
have to a admit that it came out stunning. So she goes
" Boubacar (that's my Senegalese name) what do you
think of my hair?". I looked at it and said what I really thought
"Umo (her name) di woni weydi" ... translates to - Umo it is
beautiful. I have never seen anything like this in my life.
She hugs herself and had the biggest smile I have ever seen
in my life. I have to admit that I was really affected by this
huge sincerely happy ( I am beautiful ) smile. Her smile
was so powerful it made me feel good. It is something
to get back to basics ... back to the simple pleasures one
of the sources of true happiness.
they don't have much) do what any other young girl
would do. You know ... primp their hair ... wash their
clothes ... ALWAYS dress up ... even if they are
only going to the village over. Also, they wash up
before and after they play soccer.
If we are going to another village to play ... they dress
up with their best dresses (which are really pagnas
--- beautiful colored cloth) ... which they wear over
their sports wear. It is really something to see ...
all the colors.
Of course they way they dress up to leave even to
the next village makes me embarrassed to think that
I used to go food shopping on a Saturday in my not
so best sweat suit. I don't think I am going to do that
again ... seeing as I can see what a difference dressing
neatly can do for a person.
A huge (I mean huge) part of primping is the hair ...
and here all the girls have their hair braided. Especially
on the special occasions/holidays ... etc. They are creative
which results in some intricate braiding schemes. It really is
striking to see when they're done. Also it isn't just
braiding hair, it is a social event too. In the afternoons
after lunch you can see a bunch of girls get together
sitting and braiding and talking and just spending the time.
Well there is this one young girl of about 12 or 13 who
really doesn't have a cent. And for here to get anything
is a big thing. One of the techniques that the girls use
while braiding their hair is that of adding extensions. And
the way they incorporate it into the hair is really amazing.
But ... of course ... one has to buy the extensions ... and this
girl usually doesn't have a cent to do a thing. Somewhere
in all this she gets the money and buys the hair that suffices
for the extension work. (I think that the cost of the package
was 33 cents US).
Well her and her friends are at it for about 6 hours and I
have to a admit that it came out stunning. So she goes
" Boubacar (that's my Senegalese name) what do you
think of my hair?". I looked at it and said what I really thought
"Umo (her name) di woni weydi" ... translates to - Umo it is
beautiful. I have never seen anything like this in my life.
She hugs herself and had the biggest smile I have ever seen
in my life. I have to admit that I was really affected by this
huge sincerely happy ( I am beautiful ) smile. Her smile
was so powerful it made me feel good. It is something
to get back to basics ... back to the simple pleasures one
of the sources of true happiness.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Another 2 weeks - September 30, 2003
Hello;
It has been another 2 weeks since I have last arrived
in the 'big' city to read emails and to just get out of the
village for a change of scenery. But of course during the
2 weeks there is always something going on. So, here are
some of the stories or mini-adventures, I guess it is one
of those half full/half empty things.
***** Don't worry ... be happy*****
After the last time that I came into the 'big' city
(Kolda in the region of Kolda - just below The Gambia)
we hit the road to return to the village on a tuesday
morning. I was in town with another Peace Corps
volunteer from the village over from my village 'Goundaga'.
So at about noon after filling up on some decent chow
we go to the gare (that's what they call the garages
where you catch the bus ... 7 palaas to your destination).
It was interesting that day because actually the gare is
pretty hectic and not so aesthetic place. But as we
are sitting there waiting we see this bird or should I
say more like one of the birds that ones sees on an
exotic travel brochure ... it was between 2 and 3 ft.
tall ... black with a red plume on top of the head. I
know that we have all seen this bird on TV or in the
zoo and it sure seemed like a wacky scenario seeing it
scrounge around the gare (though walking as graceful
and proud as could be).
So after watching an example of Wild Life Africa
in the oddest place we wedged ourselves into the 7-palaas
(which is an old Peugeot 505 station wagon usually
with no shocks and a broken windshield, but with a
fire extinguisher) ... (also I don't why know they call it a
7-palass because it actually sits 8 counting the
driver ... 2 in the front ... 3 in the middle seats
... and 3 in the back seats ... all in a car smaller than
a mid sized) ... oh yeah ... then there is baggage,
goats, buckets ... and today 3 - 10 liter plastic
gas cans filled with gas ( I figured what ta hell
... this could be as good a day as any to die).
OK ... back to the return trip to the village ...
after wedging ourselves in the 7-palaas ( me and
Pat (Peace Corps volunteer from the other village)
and 5 good sized Wolof women) ... I live in a region
of Senegal that is predominately 'Pulaar-Fulakunda'
and the Wolofs live up above 'The Gambia' near
Thies and Dakar ... so there is this language
difference as we have learned Pulaar and it isn't
all that similar to Wolof.
So off we go and it was a good day as they didn't
have to push start the car (which is about 80%
of the time). After about 20 minutes Pat (who is
probably pretty renowned for being able to sleep
in anything that moves at any time) konks out and
all of a sudden from the radio comes Bobby McFarren's
'Don't worry ... be happy' ... it was something to sit
there thinking about the problems of the village
and what can we do about it ... and then listening
to " Here's a little song I wrote ... etc. ... nah,nah,nah
... don't worry be happy". It was one of those moments
that all of a sudden the thought comes ... look at where
I am. In a 7-palaas with 5 wolof women and each one
is as colorfully dressed as one could be ... they all have
head wraps with colors of orange and black ... brilliant blue
... chocolate brown ... red and yellow with some day-glow
pink (sounds like it wouldn't work but it was striking) and
a gray and cream color melange. Also I looked over and there
was Pat zonked out and here we are bombing down the
road with don't worry be happy on the radio ... Wolof women
in colorful dress and speaking Wolof ... and Pat sleeping and
me trying to figure out how to solve problems that I have
no clue where to start. I can tell what I learned from that
surreal ride ... don't worry be happy as I was there then
and had all this happening and was caught up in problems
that will be solved in it's own time. I have to thank ole
Bobby ... I think I am going to enjoy the ride a little more
from now on.
***** The Tomato *****
I arrived in the village on the 12th of June which
is right at the beginning of the planting season or when
the rainy season starts and it is when there are people
going out to the fields all the time and it is also the time
of the year where the food supply starts dwindling down.
Especially where last year was a drought year and the yield
from the harvest was down considerably. What happened
is that we are to the point where we eat nothing but 'follere
and rice or follere and millet' all the time. Follere is a pasty
green sauce made out of weeds, water, salt and on a good
day 'jimbo' which is like a salty bouillon cube. Of course the
question would be ... why don't they go out and buy some
food ... the reason is that they have no money and I literally
mean 'no money'. I had it better than the people in the
village as I had some money and could go into town and
get something ... but I did that twice as I was starving and
for me to get that way takes a bit. I lost 16 lbs in four weeks
and that was with eating 3 times a day. I refused to go into
to town everyday because I wanted to know and experience
what the people where going through. This way I can
understand what their lives are about.
So after seeing and feeling the hunger daily I asked
my village counterpart "why don't we start a vegetable
garden?". Or more like why wasn't there any vegetable
gardens. He said it was because of money ... problems
with having to haul water over distances ... and a few
others with some being human related ... like it just
isn't done in the wet season. So, I go out
buy a bunch of seeds and off we go starting an example
'wet season garden'. When you live by sustenance farming
you have to learn patience as if you plant the plants
today it is going to take 3 months or so to eat. But,
we planted tomato plants and immediately there was
this big village interest as a whole bunch of people
came out to see these seedlings in our garden next
to the well. As the time goes by I stake the plants
and the torrential rains and winds (hendu in Pulaar)
batter these plants and to their credit the wouldn't
accept defeat. Well, finally, though the food situation
has started getting better as some of the early crops
started coming in (this has been a big year for rain) ...
here comes the tomatoes. Well, actually it started
pretty slow and there is one tomato that is pretty
close to ripening and man ... I got my peepers on
that one. It was really small for USA standards but
for here it was big and again the people come out
to see this tomato. Well, my counterpart warns me
that we should take it off the plant before it ripens.
Any true tomato aficionado would blanch at the
thought. So ... of course I said
"why don't we wait till it is a little more ripe" which
actually turned out to be ... let's leave it there
till something comes by and eat it. So there goes
tomato #1 ... a frustration in sustenance farming.
But of course others are coming and this time we
pull them off the plant. It was like an event as there
were about 40 people (about 30 of them kids)
whom came over to witness the harvesting of tomatoes
in the rainy season. All the people wanted to hold
the tomatoes and each one had some remark about
how great these 4 tomatoes were. One guy had this
dumbstruck look on his face and couldn't say anything.
So, we take the tomatoes to my hut for the
finishing touches of the ripening process. 3 days
later ... 2 tomatoes are ready and the anticipation is
building as after eating follere and rice for a while
this tomato is going to be a culinary treat. All day
we had debates on the best way to eat the tomatoes
and there was about 8 different ways and for me it
is straight up with some lamdam (salt in Pulaar). So,
as darkness falls and I light up my kerosene lantern
the air is electric with the thought that we are going
eat these tomatoes.
Let me tell you something ... biting into that tomato
was spiritual. It was something to come from having
everything at a moments whim and taking things for
granted and not seeing the significance of a tomato
to the hungry and poor people of the world.
As the tomato and I have become one ... as
we are what we eat ... and I will carry it with me
the rest of my days. Not the physical part ... but the
significance, the not taking things for granted and
seeing the importance of all things. As maybe for
those who have, it is only a tomato ... but for those
who don't ... it is life.
Till Later
Paul
Senegal
West Africa
It has been another 2 weeks since I have last arrived
in the 'big' city to read emails and to just get out of the
village for a change of scenery. But of course during the
2 weeks there is always something going on. So, here are
some of the stories or mini-adventures, I guess it is one
of those half full/half empty things.
***** Don't worry ... be happy*****
After the last time that I came into the 'big' city
(Kolda in the region of Kolda - just below The Gambia)
we hit the road to return to the village on a tuesday
morning. I was in town with another Peace Corps
volunteer from the village over from my village 'Goundaga'.
So at about noon after filling up on some decent chow
we go to the gare (that's what they call the garages
where you catch the bus ... 7 palaas to your destination).
It was interesting that day because actually the gare is
pretty hectic and not so aesthetic place. But as we
are sitting there waiting we see this bird or should I
say more like one of the birds that ones sees on an
exotic travel brochure ... it was between 2 and 3 ft.
tall ... black with a red plume on top of the head. I
know that we have all seen this bird on TV or in the
zoo and it sure seemed like a wacky scenario seeing it
scrounge around the gare (though walking as graceful
and proud as could be).
So after watching an example of Wild Life Africa
in the oddest place we wedged ourselves into the 7-palaas
(which is an old Peugeot 505 station wagon usually
with no shocks and a broken windshield, but with a
fire extinguisher) ... (also I don't why know they call it a
7-palass because it actually sits 8 counting the
driver ... 2 in the front ... 3 in the middle seats
... and 3 in the back seats ... all in a car smaller than
a mid sized) ... oh yeah ... then there is baggage,
goats, buckets ... and today 3 - 10 liter plastic
gas cans filled with gas ( I figured what ta hell
... this could be as good a day as any to die).
OK ... back to the return trip to the village ...
after wedging ourselves in the 7-palaas ( me and
Pat (Peace Corps volunteer from the other village)
and 5 good sized Wolof women) ... I live in a region
of Senegal that is predominately 'Pulaar-Fulakunda'
and the Wolofs live up above 'The Gambia' near
Thies and Dakar ... so there is this language
difference as we have learned Pulaar and it isn't
all that similar to Wolof.
So off we go and it was a good day as they didn't
have to push start the car (which is about 80%
of the time). After about 20 minutes Pat (who is
probably pretty renowned for being able to sleep
in anything that moves at any time) konks out and
all of a sudden from the radio comes Bobby McFarren's
'Don't worry ... be happy' ... it was something to sit
there thinking about the problems of the village
and what can we do about it ... and then listening
to " Here's a little song I wrote ... etc. ... nah,nah,nah
... don't worry be happy". It was one of those moments
that all of a sudden the thought comes ... look at where
I am. In a 7-palaas with 5 wolof women and each one
is as colorfully dressed as one could be ... they all have
head wraps with colors of orange and black ... brilliant blue
... chocolate brown ... red and yellow with some day-glow
pink (sounds like it wouldn't work but it was striking) and
a gray and cream color melange. Also I looked over and there
was Pat zonked out and here we are bombing down the
road with don't worry be happy on the radio ... Wolof women
in colorful dress and speaking Wolof ... and Pat sleeping and
me trying to figure out how to solve problems that I have
no clue where to start. I can tell what I learned from that
surreal ride ... don't worry be happy as I was there then
and had all this happening and was caught up in problems
that will be solved in it's own time. I have to thank ole
Bobby ... I think I am going to enjoy the ride a little more
from now on.
***** The Tomato *****
I arrived in the village on the 12th of June which
is right at the beginning of the planting season or when
the rainy season starts and it is when there are people
going out to the fields all the time and it is also the time
of the year where the food supply starts dwindling down.
Especially where last year was a drought year and the yield
from the harvest was down considerably. What happened
is that we are to the point where we eat nothing but 'follere
and rice or follere and millet' all the time. Follere is a pasty
green sauce made out of weeds, water, salt and on a good
day 'jimbo' which is like a salty bouillon cube. Of course the
question would be ... why don't they go out and buy some
food ... the reason is that they have no money and I literally
mean 'no money'. I had it better than the people in the
village as I had some money and could go into town and
get something ... but I did that twice as I was starving and
for me to get that way takes a bit. I lost 16 lbs in four weeks
and that was with eating 3 times a day. I refused to go into
to town everyday because I wanted to know and experience
what the people where going through. This way I can
understand what their lives are about.
So after seeing and feeling the hunger daily I asked
my village counterpart "why don't we start a vegetable
garden?". Or more like why wasn't there any vegetable
gardens. He said it was because of money ... problems
with having to haul water over distances ... and a few
others with some being human related ... like it just
isn't done in the wet season. So, I go out
buy a bunch of seeds and off we go starting an example
'wet season garden'. When you live by sustenance farming
you have to learn patience as if you plant the plants
today it is going to take 3 months or so to eat. But,
we planted tomato plants and immediately there was
this big village interest as a whole bunch of people
came out to see these seedlings in our garden next
to the well. As the time goes by I stake the plants
and the torrential rains and winds (hendu in Pulaar)
batter these plants and to their credit the wouldn't
accept defeat. Well, finally, though the food situation
has started getting better as some of the early crops
started coming in (this has been a big year for rain) ...
here comes the tomatoes. Well, actually it started
pretty slow and there is one tomato that is pretty
close to ripening and man ... I got my peepers on
that one. It was really small for USA standards but
for here it was big and again the people come out
to see this tomato. Well, my counterpart warns me
that we should take it off the plant before it ripens.
Any true tomato aficionado would blanch at the
thought. So ... of course I said
"why don't we wait till it is a little more ripe" which
actually turned out to be ... let's leave it there
till something comes by and eat it. So there goes
tomato #1 ... a frustration in sustenance farming.
But of course others are coming and this time we
pull them off the plant. It was like an event as there
were about 40 people (about 30 of them kids)
whom came over to witness the harvesting of tomatoes
in the rainy season. All the people wanted to hold
the tomatoes and each one had some remark about
how great these 4 tomatoes were. One guy had this
dumbstruck look on his face and couldn't say anything.
So, we take the tomatoes to my hut for the
finishing touches of the ripening process. 3 days
later ... 2 tomatoes are ready and the anticipation is
building as after eating follere and rice for a while
this tomato is going to be a culinary treat. All day
we had debates on the best way to eat the tomatoes
and there was about 8 different ways and for me it
is straight up with some lamdam (salt in Pulaar). So,
as darkness falls and I light up my kerosene lantern
the air is electric with the thought that we are going
eat these tomatoes.
Let me tell you something ... biting into that tomato
was spiritual. It was something to come from having
everything at a moments whim and taking things for
granted and not seeing the significance of a tomato
to the hungry and poor people of the world.
As the tomato and I have become one ... as
we are what we eat ... and I will carry it with me
the rest of my days. Not the physical part ... but the
significance, the not taking things for granted and
seeing the importance of all things. As maybe for
those who have, it is only a tomato ... but for those
who don't ... it is life.
Till Later
Paul
Senegal
West Africa
More stories from 'le Senegal' - September 15, 2003
Hono mbad-daa;
It has been another 2 weeks since the
last time we came into the 'big city'. Here
are a couple of the things that have been
going on.
*****BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR*****
Here in Senegal polygamy is legal and pretty
much practiced. In my village of 300 people about
50% of the marriages/relationships are polygamists.
Of the 50% only one guy has more than 2 wives.
Of course everything looks good on paper but
when it actually is going on it could be not quite
as good as one thought it could be.
One day my next door neighbor with 3 wives
whose name is Amadou Balde comes home after
a hard days work thinking that he can kick his feet
up and just chill out. It didn't work out that way as
what he came home to was more of a hornet's nest.
His number 2 wife Salimata (who is really a nice person)
is really pretty mad with a lady from the other side
of the village. There was a little incident between their
2 daughters at the community well.
So Salimata has been yelling at the other lady
(who actually hadn't been there for 2 hours) while
ole Amadou strolls up to his hut with his cow in tow.
So he walks into this hornets's nest as number 2
wife has riled up number 1 and 3 wife. He starts
by listening to number 2 then number one starts
about another subject that leads number 3 to
start on yet another subject. Ole Amadou is arguing
3 arguments at the same time. I was in my hut
with a few guys (some not yet married) so I asked
the guys how many wives do they want? They all
said "none" ... also my counterpart in the village was
there and I said I heard that Demba wanted to get
another wife (he has one) ... he said " no way".
It was funny as we were sitting there chilling out
with our coffees while ole Amadou was swatting
away the hornets. I doubt Amadou had that in
mind when he was thinking of 3 wives. Also, 3
wives and a lot of kids ... like 14 ... 4 with
number 1, 8 with number 2 (she's not yet 30)
and 2 with number 3.
*****NEW PICKUP LINE*****
There is another Peace Corps volunteer in the
village over (Saare Kheutayel) and every 2 weeks
we ride our bicycles 40 kms to a small city called
Velingara to check mail or buy seeds ... etc.
The last time in Pat (volunteer's name) buys this
soccer ball and ties it to the rack on the back of her
bicycle and off we go to head back to our villages.
Well evey 2 minutes you hear these guys yelling
"hey come here I want to look at your ball". It
was amazing the attention she got. It makes me
wonder how some people buy cars for 50 to 100
thousand to get attention and hit on and Pat got
more attention with a 6 dollar and 50 cent soccer
ball.
*****FAMOUS IN AFRICA*****
Here in Senegal politically correct hasn't quite
arrived yet as trying to survive malaria and droughts
and poverty seem to have priority.
Here we are called 'toubob' which I think that
in one of the dialects here means 'white person'
or something like that. Of course if you don't like
being called 'toubob' you are going to be pretty
unhappy most of the time. Also being a 'toubob'
gets you the opportunity to pay more for things
as they think that all 'toubobs' are rich and actually
start off at charging a 'toubob' double. But after
being here a while they charge us the same as
everyone else.
Those are a few of the lousy things about
being a 'toubob' in Senegal ... but ... there is
also a good side ...
As I mentioned in the story above me and Pat
ride to Velingara every 2 weeks on our bicycles.
As we ride down the road with our bike helmets
on we always hear these little voices from 100
meters away yelling "toubob ... toubob". This
starts at about another 100 meters before
their huts or village. It is like we are being
announced ... but the best part of them all
is when 20 kids from about 2 yrs old to
10 come running up to the road just to
shake our hands as we ride by ... it is like we
are some 'Tour De France' guys or something.
I have never felt so famous in all my life.
*****THE REGAL BANNERS OF GOUNDAGA*****
This year has been a good year as far as
rain goes as last year was pretty much a drought
year. One of the crops that the people plant are
sorghum. The stalks are tall and full and after
the nights rains they are heavy and actually
bend over the road and leave like a canopy under
which we walk or ride our bikes. Early in the morning
it is a sight to see as the birds are singing and
the sorghum is creating the canopy of plenty.
It is something to live where you subsist by what
you have planted. That's why when I see the
full and heavy sorghum I know that we will
eat well for another year. So to me the bending
sorghum covered roads of Goundaga are as regal
as any path that Buckingham palace can claim.
Till next time
Paul
It has been another 2 weeks since the
last time we came into the 'big city'. Here
are a couple of the things that have been
going on.
*****BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR*****
Here in Senegal polygamy is legal and pretty
much practiced. In my village of 300 people about
50% of the marriages/relationships are polygamists.
Of the 50% only one guy has more than 2 wives.
Of course everything looks good on paper but
when it actually is going on it could be not quite
as good as one thought it could be.
One day my next door neighbor with 3 wives
whose name is Amadou Balde comes home after
a hard days work thinking that he can kick his feet
up and just chill out. It didn't work out that way as
what he came home to was more of a hornet's nest.
His number 2 wife Salimata (who is really a nice person)
is really pretty mad with a lady from the other side
of the village. There was a little incident between their
2 daughters at the community well.
So Salimata has been yelling at the other lady
(who actually hadn't been there for 2 hours) while
ole Amadou strolls up to his hut with his cow in tow.
So he walks into this hornets's nest as number 2
wife has riled up number 1 and 3 wife. He starts
by listening to number 2 then number one starts
about another subject that leads number 3 to
start on yet another subject. Ole Amadou is arguing
3 arguments at the same time. I was in my hut
with a few guys (some not yet married) so I asked
the guys how many wives do they want? They all
said "none" ... also my counterpart in the village was
there and I said I heard that Demba wanted to get
another wife (he has one) ... he said " no way".
It was funny as we were sitting there chilling out
with our coffees while ole Amadou was swatting
away the hornets. I doubt Amadou had that in
mind when he was thinking of 3 wives. Also, 3
wives and a lot of kids ... like 14 ... 4 with
number 1, 8 with number 2 (she's not yet 30)
and 2 with number 3.
*****NEW PICKUP LINE*****
There is another Peace Corps volunteer in the
village over (Saare Kheutayel) and every 2 weeks
we ride our bicycles 40 kms to a small city called
Velingara to check mail or buy seeds ... etc.
The last time in Pat (volunteer's name) buys this
soccer ball and ties it to the rack on the back of her
bicycle and off we go to head back to our villages.
Well evey 2 minutes you hear these guys yelling
"hey come here I want to look at your ball". It
was amazing the attention she got. It makes me
wonder how some people buy cars for 50 to 100
thousand to get attention and hit on and Pat got
more attention with a 6 dollar and 50 cent soccer
ball.
*****FAMOUS IN AFRICA*****
Here in Senegal politically correct hasn't quite
arrived yet as trying to survive malaria and droughts
and poverty seem to have priority.
Here we are called 'toubob' which I think that
in one of the dialects here means 'white person'
or something like that. Of course if you don't like
being called 'toubob' you are going to be pretty
unhappy most of the time. Also being a 'toubob'
gets you the opportunity to pay more for things
as they think that all 'toubobs' are rich and actually
start off at charging a 'toubob' double. But after
being here a while they charge us the same as
everyone else.
Those are a few of the lousy things about
being a 'toubob' in Senegal ... but ... there is
also a good side ...
As I mentioned in the story above me and Pat
ride to Velingara every 2 weeks on our bicycles.
As we ride down the road with our bike helmets
on we always hear these little voices from 100
meters away yelling "toubob ... toubob". This
starts at about another 100 meters before
their huts or village. It is like we are being
announced ... but the best part of them all
is when 20 kids from about 2 yrs old to
10 come running up to the road just to
shake our hands as we ride by ... it is like we
are some 'Tour De France' guys or something.
I have never felt so famous in all my life.
*****THE REGAL BANNERS OF GOUNDAGA*****
This year has been a good year as far as
rain goes as last year was pretty much a drought
year. One of the crops that the people plant are
sorghum. The stalks are tall and full and after
the nights rains they are heavy and actually
bend over the road and leave like a canopy under
which we walk or ride our bikes. Early in the morning
it is a sight to see as the birds are singing and
the sorghum is creating the canopy of plenty.
It is something to live where you subsist by what
you have planted. That's why when I see the
full and heavy sorghum I know that we will
eat well for another year. So to me the bending
sorghum covered roads of Goundaga are as regal
as any path that Buckingham palace can claim.
Till next time
Paul
What a difference a village makes -September 1, 2003
Hono hen ( Pulaar for what's up );
During the last 2 weeks we have been busy
playing a couple of soccer games (kids). It is a rare thing
here in Senegal and about the only other place they
have boys and girls soccer teams are in Dakar ( 12
hour ride in a Puegot 505 - old as the hills station
wagon or about 24 hours in a mini-karr which actually
should be called 1/2 bus. Also it is kind of
wacky watching the buses go by with about 4 goats
tied on the roof and standing up) ( here I guess it is
goat buses and not chicken buses as in Central
America ) ... so with 3 other Peace Corps Volunteers
here we have started a movement. Right now there
are 6 villages at it with girls and boys teams. Even the
minister of sports in the region was surprised to hear
that there was a girls soccer team.
Two weeks ago we went to Devon's (PC
Health Volunteer) village called Saare Niantho and
I guess you could say it was called ' a soccer match
broke out at the fights ' well ... it wasn't that bad
but it was spirited to say the least. The girls from
my village are undefeated and are really pretty
good. They are strong and can run for hours
without even getting winded and also you can
see the confidence coming with every game.
Well the other team (Saare Niantho) was their
second game and they got upset when the
girls from Goundaga scored first. One girl from
the other team wanted to start a fight and
actually got yellow carded. The amazing
thing about the way the people here
enjoy the game ( the girls really ) is they
will cheer and sing and dance and it is a
sight to see. Of course singing that
you beat someone at a soccer game
is kind of instigating you could say.
But for the adults of Saare Niantho
(it was the first time they saw the
kids play) they didn't know what to do
and it was hilarious seeing the adults
trying to get in the middle of the
dance/singing/criticizing action
going on. They are chasing the
girls and everyone is running in
all different directions and in the
end everyone was laughing like
there was no tommorrow.
I know this doesn't sound like much
... especially to what happens in the US
but here the reason why the girls get
involved so much is that it is the first
time that they have competed and really
don't know the emotions of competition.
It is the first time that they are important
and they are the center of attraction. You
should see the difference in the girls in my
village just from 2 months ago. They have
confidence and they just have a little air
about them that says 'I'm someone'. The life
of a village girl isn't easy as they have to cook,
pound meal, wash clothes and watch their
little brothers and sisters and work in the
fields (that's why they are strong - they
work hard all day) also, maybe they may be
promised out to marry someone when you
are 13 and maybe either married at 13
or 14. But, with these soccer teams the
parents get a chance to see their daughters
as something more than a work horse. I am
proud to say that there isn't one girl that
plays soccer that is promised out. On my
team (ages 10 to 15) there isn't one girl
with a boyfriend (yet) and they seem to
be in more control of their lives and when
I tell their fathers that their daughters are
good players they are actually proud of them.
Also, we played Tom's team (another
Volunteer) from Saare Mahdi ... they are
about 15 km away and getting to my
village is pretty tough right now because
of the rainy season. So here comes Tom
and his kids in a tractor with a kind of
wagon in the back. It was the first game
for his kids and his girls were kind of scared
as they were concerned about how big our
girls are. But I have to say that the kids from
Tom's village are just really nice kids and the
girls went out there for the first time and were
so tight and scared for the first 5 minutes but
after that they were great. Tom was like one
of the college football coaches and just getting
animated (it was the first time for him too).
But the games went well and in the end the
girls and boys from both villages walked out to
meet the tractor holding hands and there was
just a real nice feeling. At times like that I
think ... here I am in Africa on a Saturday
afternoon watching this happening.
But ... in 2 weeks we are off to Saare
Mahdi to play Tom's team. Also there was
another Volunteer (Hillary) visiting Tom from
a section of Senegal called Kategou. About
8 hours from here. She was excited and is
going to try and start a team in that region also.
Hopefully it works and the movement can
continue ... it is great to see the change
in the kids.
Well ... I know this wasn't an out of
control donkey story or healing the masses
story ... maybe next time it will be more
exciting.
En on tuma (till next time)
Paul
During the last 2 weeks we have been busy
playing a couple of soccer games (kids). It is a rare thing
here in Senegal and about the only other place they
have boys and girls soccer teams are in Dakar ( 12
hour ride in a Puegot 505 - old as the hills station
wagon or about 24 hours in a mini-karr which actually
should be called 1/2 bus. Also it is kind of
wacky watching the buses go by with about 4 goats
tied on the roof and standing up) ( here I guess it is
goat buses and not chicken buses as in Central
America ) ... so with 3 other Peace Corps Volunteers
here we have started a movement. Right now there
are 6 villages at it with girls and boys teams. Even the
minister of sports in the region was surprised to hear
that there was a girls soccer team.
Two weeks ago we went to Devon's (PC
Health Volunteer) village called Saare Niantho and
I guess you could say it was called ' a soccer match
broke out at the fights ' well ... it wasn't that bad
but it was spirited to say the least. The girls from
my village are undefeated and are really pretty
good. They are strong and can run for hours
without even getting winded and also you can
see the confidence coming with every game.
Well the other team (Saare Niantho) was their
second game and they got upset when the
girls from Goundaga scored first. One girl from
the other team wanted to start a fight and
actually got yellow carded. The amazing
thing about the way the people here
enjoy the game ( the girls really ) is they
will cheer and sing and dance and it is a
sight to see. Of course singing that
you beat someone at a soccer game
is kind of instigating you could say.
But for the adults of Saare Niantho
(it was the first time they saw the
kids play) they didn't know what to do
and it was hilarious seeing the adults
trying to get in the middle of the
dance/singing/criticizing action
going on. They are chasing the
girls and everyone is running in
all different directions and in the
end everyone was laughing like
there was no tommorrow.
I know this doesn't sound like much
... especially to what happens in the US
but here the reason why the girls get
involved so much is that it is the first
time that they have competed and really
don't know the emotions of competition.
It is the first time that they are important
and they are the center of attraction. You
should see the difference in the girls in my
village just from 2 months ago. They have
confidence and they just have a little air
about them that says 'I'm someone'. The life
of a village girl isn't easy as they have to cook,
pound meal, wash clothes and watch their
little brothers and sisters and work in the
fields (that's why they are strong - they
work hard all day) also, maybe they may be
promised out to marry someone when you
are 13 and maybe either married at 13
or 14. But, with these soccer teams the
parents get a chance to see their daughters
as something more than a work horse. I am
proud to say that there isn't one girl that
plays soccer that is promised out. On my
team (ages 10 to 15) there isn't one girl
with a boyfriend (yet) and they seem to
be in more control of their lives and when
I tell their fathers that their daughters are
good players they are actually proud of them.
Also, we played Tom's team (another
Volunteer) from Saare Mahdi ... they are
about 15 km away and getting to my
village is pretty tough right now because
of the rainy season. So here comes Tom
and his kids in a tractor with a kind of
wagon in the back. It was the first game
for his kids and his girls were kind of scared
as they were concerned about how big our
girls are. But I have to say that the kids from
Tom's village are just really nice kids and the
girls went out there for the first time and were
so tight and scared for the first 5 minutes but
after that they were great. Tom was like one
of the college football coaches and just getting
animated (it was the first time for him too).
But the games went well and in the end the
girls and boys from both villages walked out to
meet the tractor holding hands and there was
just a real nice feeling. At times like that I
think ... here I am in Africa on a Saturday
afternoon watching this happening.
But ... in 2 weeks we are off to Saare
Mahdi to play Tom's team. Also there was
another Volunteer (Hillary) visiting Tom from
a section of Senegal called Kategou. About
8 hours from here. She was excited and is
going to try and start a team in that region also.
Hopefully it works and the movement can
continue ... it is great to see the change
in the kids.
Well ... I know this wasn't an out of
control donkey story or healing the masses
story ... maybe next time it will be more
exciting.
En on tuma (till next time)
Paul
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
From Le Senegal - May 18, 2003
How are you doing and what's new in New Bedford?
We have 2 weeks left in our training and then it is out to our
villages. I have been to my village for 3 days to get to see what
it is like. It is called Goundaga and it is south of The Gambia
( The Gambia is within Senegal ), it has 301 people with me and it
is very hot. But it is different than El Salvador in that it is setup in the
classical African style. A compound with multiple huts, mine has 9
and it is large so it isn't like everyone is on top of one another. We
are also situated 1 km from The Gambia River and there is supposed
to be hippos in it. Also the village has one boat called a pirogue and
it looks kind of old.
As far as work in the village goes, well, it looks interesting. There
are Non Governmental Organizations (NGOs) working there. The ones
I know of are World Vision and the Catholic Relief Services. But it
doesn't seem like very much has been done so far. I think I know why,
so that is where I will start to ask questions to figure what's up. This
village already has a school and there are 170 students (it supports
other small villages), of course there isn't much in it. Again, another
thing to work on.
But, the people so far have been really nice and there are a few
characters there so that should be a lot of fun. Seeing as the afternoons
are spent hanging out under the shade structure. It has gotten to about
104 ° ( more like the average ) during the 2 hottest months (right now).
So it is impossible to work in that heat, also unlike the village in El Sal
this village doesn't have irrigation. It is interesting to see the economic
impact that it has. In El Sal the people were poor but they had income
pretty steadily throughout the year. Here it looks like either you have a
good year or your suffering till the next one. Last year was a
semi-drought year and the people are in though shape financially.
What they do plant are peanuts, corn and rice. The trick is to try
and figure out some dry weather crops/gardens/income ... but
irrigation is the way to go. World Vision is working with an irrigation
project up the river a little ways so we'll have to see if we can get
something going.
Well, I guess I have rapped on for a while and I am out of here
... it is Sunday morning and I am going to hangout with the host
family I am living with ... so ...
Adios
Paul
Description - Retro Peace Corps Senegal blog
I am compiling this blog after completion of my Peace Corps tour in the Francophone, West African country of Senegal. I served from March 2003 until November 2005.
The entries are copies of emails that I sent to my sister during my tour. The emails ended
before 2005 and there aren't any for the final year. Also, some of the emails were written
in a blog manner. It was written that way as she was sharing them with a few friends. It
was before I was even aware that blogs existed.
Despite the time that has passed since the Senegal experience, when reading these emails
they have had the ability to take me back to the village where I lived for two and
a half years named, Goundaga. In the local Pulaar language Goundaga means - secret
From a personal perspective, it is really a gift to able to re-read these emails.
I am trending towards copying the emails verbatim ( but correcting any spelling or grammatical errors) and adding notes or explanations at the end to add further details. Some of the emails cover multiple topics. Pictures are from 2005 when my sister did visit and had a digital camera with her.
At the time of no cell or smart phones and having to use cyber-cafes about 103 km (about 60 miles) away, it made access to the internet a bit of a challenge.
Paul
RPCV
Senegal 2003-2005
The entries are copies of emails that I sent to my sister during my tour. The emails ended
before 2005 and there aren't any for the final year. Also, some of the emails were written
in a blog manner. It was written that way as she was sharing them with a few friends. It
was before I was even aware that blogs existed.
Despite the time that has passed since the Senegal experience, when reading these emails
they have had the ability to take me back to the village where I lived for two and
a half years named, Goundaga. In the local Pulaar language Goundaga means - secret
From a personal perspective, it is really a gift to able to re-read these emails.
I am trending towards copying the emails verbatim ( but correcting any spelling or grammatical errors) and adding notes or explanations at the end to add further details. Some of the emails cover multiple topics. Pictures are from 2005 when my sister did visit and had a digital camera with her.
At the time of no cell or smart phones and having to use cyber-cafes about 103 km (about 60 miles) away, it made access to the internet a bit of a challenge.
Paul
RPCV
Senegal 2003-2005
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