VV, My Village, Islam, Seereer and other randomness...

Well I’m sitting under my mosquito net in Ngoudiane once again and while I feel like I don’t have much to say, I should probably just start writing and figure it out along the way.  In reality I’m sure that I have a lot to say that would be interesting to y’all state side and the fact that I find it so uninteresting myself is telling of how much I’ve acclimated to my new life here.  For example now it is not unusual at all for me to text back and forth with my friend about the amoebas in his digestive system and him having to send his poop, and subsequently himself, to Dakar for analysis.  That’s just about par for the course here.  Also now taking public transportation and being crammed together with way too many people in cars from the 70’s, which break down all the time, seems like a great luxury compared to biking 40k.  I eat with my hands, I go out to dinner and listen as four languages are used in the course of ordering 4 beers (I used 3), I sit under a mosquito net, I don’t wear shoes anymore (no one does, sandals are just too convenient), I drink tea at least once a day, I stand next to the sheep on the roof when making phone calls (it’s the best spot for reception) I … I can’t even think of what else is different because it’s just the facts of life now.  I like this.  Once you get over the culture shock of what is quintessentially “non American” about another country you can start to see what it actually is in and of itself, rather than just in reference to something else.

Ok enough philosophizing here’s the news:

I traveled to the Kaolack region of Senegal this past week for a little something Peace Corps likes to call Demystification.  Well now its called Volunteer Visit (VV) because apparently PC is lacking in acronyms.  Anyways Demyst or VV is when PC sends a PCT without their LCF to visit a PCV in the field before that PCV’s COS in order to show them what volunteer life is really like (PC = Peace Corps, PCT = Peace Corps Trainee, LCF = Language and Cross Cultural Facilitator, PCV = Peace Corps Volunteer, COS = Close of Service).  Now you might be saying to yourself (in a not so bright voice I might add) well that’s not very many acronyms, what’s he talking about?  That’s just the tip of the ice burg my friends, I’m starting you off slowly so as not to overwhelm you and cause you to freak out, quit your job/ leave school, and run off to join a scrabble league where mercifully acronyms are forbidden.  You’re welcome.  Now where was I?  Oh yes VV.  About 20 of us squeezed into a Peace Corps bus and went out to our respective villages in the Kaolack/ Fatick/ Kaffrine regions.  Are you keeping track of the geography of Senegal I’ve been describing in these posts?  There will be a quiz!  You think I’m kidding but I happen to know that some Chico professors are reading, and they just might slip one of these in as an extra credit question on the next exam.  Come on theatre department show an alum some love. 

Back to VV.  Mine was with one of the only other Seereer speakers in the country, Jessica O’Herron and long story short, she’s awesome!  Firstly it was really impressive to see someone so completely at home in their situation.  Jessica’s Seereer is really fantastic and her relationship with her family seems great too. It’s also nice to see that PCV’s get stuff done!  During my visit Jessica was finishing up a grant to build a school in her village and I am proud to say that I helped proof read it and even added in a few snazzy sentences into the intro.  It was pretty much the most productive thing I’ve done all PST, or at least it felt like it.  And guess what, it looks like she will get the money!  Way to go Jessica!  We spent most of our time in Jessica’s village, but we took one day to go to my village.  This was my first time riding in an Alhum (Public transit in Senegal… kinda like a bus I suppose…) and it was really pretty fun.  The Alhums are all painted with Islamic sayings and the names of prominent Imams and look kinda like funky busses from the 70’s.  We got off in Toubacouta, which is a really nice touristy village about 5k north of my village, and proceeded to walk the rest of the way to my Village.  Along the way we met the director of the theatre troupe in my village.  Yes there is a theatre troupe in my village!  This pretty much made my day.  The director is a really nice Rastafarian man from the Ivory Coast who only speaks French (yep time to brush up on my French too).  He told us that theatre is his life and that he has traveled to 13 countries in Africa studying different forms of performance.  I have indeed hit the jackpot.  This fact was driven home when he perfectly imitated a chicken crowing and a horse neighing as he heard those animals.  This may sound hokey, but to me it signifies someone who will be very fun to work with and who will make theatre that is aesthetically heightened and interesting.  I’m excited to introduce him to the Theatre of the Oppressed and I think he’s really going to take to it.  For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, two years ago I had the privilege of studying with Augusto Boal, the founder of the Theatre of the Oppressed and have subsequently created several theatre pieces in his style.  Basically this work uses theatre to open up forums of discussion and is utilized all over the world, especially in the poorest regions of the world, for development work.  I wasn’t sure if I would be able to work this into my service, but now with a theatre troupe in my village I think I can make it happen. 

Once we actually got to my village we went to see my new home.  I am pretty lucky in this regard as well as my hut has TWO rooms.  Granted the extra space isn’t all that much, but in Peace Corps land this is a big deal.  I still won’t have running water or power, but the well is close and not too deep, and the latrine is clean and new, so I’m stoked.  After eating lunch we proceeded to the chief’s house for one of the stranger conversations I’ve had in Senegal.  We sat in a small room with four men and listened as they tried to figure out which woman should be my female counterpart in the village.  Jessica was noticeably… peeved… as the men debated which woman would be qualified, and more importantly which woman would have the permission of her husband to travel to Thies for training.  Yes there are some issues with women’s equality here.  It’s on my to do list.  All kidding aside, there is a great group in PC called Senegad (Senegal Gender and Development) and they have expressed interest in using my theatre background for their work as well.  So yes quite literally it is on my to do list.  A cinj kagga (after that) we left the village and went to Toubacouta for a beer and some relaxation with the PCV working there.  Let’s just say if you come to visit me, this is where you’ll be staying.  We sat out on the terrace of a beautiful hotel overlooking the delta with birds and mangroves a plenty.  It was really nice, as was the PCV Cail.  He’s my closest neighbor so I’m guessing I will get to know him really well.  Those are pretty much the highlights of my VV… oh I almost forgot!  Tuna sandwiches for breakfast!!!  Oh my god so delicious.  Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. 

After VV we had a whopping 20 hours in Thies before heading back to our training villages.  And now here I am.  This quick turn around kind of threw me for a loop.  All the travel was just exhausting, so it was hard to dive back into studying Seereer.  Also it was hard to dive back in because I had to reconcile the fact that Seereer in Ngoudiane and the Seereer spoken in Dassilame Seereer (my village for service), and the Seereer that we’re learning in class, deffee o leng (are not the same).  It’s just a wee bit hard to motivate yourself to study when you know that to some extent your efforts are futile.  VV showed me how absolutely necessary language proficiency is, and also that despite my best efforts I will face yet another language barrier when I install next month.  It’s ok though.  Lauren was gracious enough to give me the first season of Flight of the Concords, and after a few episodes I got back into the groove of things.  I never thought that I would crave technology and everything American while I was here as getting away from those things was definitely a motivating factor for joining the Peace Corps in the first place.  The fact is though, this is really very hard, and having the option of watching a half hour of American TV while eating a few M&M’s is quite good for my mental health. 

This past week in the village has really been… well it hasn’t been much of anything.  Class then lunch then sleep then gardening then maybe class again then dinner then sitting then sleep (repeat).  It’s not good, it’s not bad, it just is. 

I’ve been using some random Seereer here and there in my posts, and have talked about learning it and whatnot, but most of you probably have no idea what I actually know or what my level is now.  Well lets just say I can have fairly decent conversations in the past, present and future tenses, can talk about my work in the PC and what the PC is in general, can talk about my family and what they do, and have recently gotten quite good at making my Senegalese family laugh by telling them absurd things like how I will good the small bird eggs we found into an omelet for everyone’s dinner.  We just had our second language proficiency exam today and I think I did pretty well.  At any rate I’m confident now that I will pass PST!  That’s a good feeling.  So do you all want to read some Seereer?  If you said yes, thank you.  If you said no… well you obviously aren’t interested in my life and thus probably shouldn’t be reading my blog.  Ok here you are:

Wolunteer Corps de la Paix no program a qoox refum. A cinj PST xam ret Dassilame Seereer, saate tep paam Sokone a refu.  No saate fe xam dimle wiin we no jafe jafe den. Ndat dimlekiim wiin we no jafe jafe fop. Xam dimle wiin we da baat a qoox den.  Jegiim xalis pur wiin we ndat jegam o and na qoox. Itam xam jeg axe paxu. Xam jangin wiin we no kaa jofna no jimb taxare fo fi a ding fo fix a tos fo tik lakas mayo. Bugam and ada Senegal fo bugaam dimle wiin mayo ken ta xo xam gen no saate fe pur xa kiid xadak. 

Alright you all got that right?  Ok fine I’ll translate. (I am a Peace Corps volunteer in the agriculture program.  After PST I will live in Dassilame Seereer, a small village close to Sokone.  In this village I will help people with their problems.  However I will not help people with all of their problems.  I will help people to improve their farming practices.  I don’t have money to give to people, but I have knowledge about farming.  Also I will have better seeds to distribute.  I will teach people in things related to planting trees, making community gardens, utilizing compost and many other things.  I want to know a lot about the culture of Senegal and I want to help people, that’s the reason why I will be living in this village for two years.)  Its not the most nuanced explanation of my work, but it gets the point across; also not bad if you ask me for studying a language for 6 weeks. 

One interesting experience this week was the cross-cultural session we had on Islam.  It wasn’t interesting for the information on Islam, that was mostly common knowledge, or at least it should be for any educated American.  What was interesting was the moment when we had to shamefully explain that many Americans have no idea what Islam is really about, and in fact there are national news networks that effuse false hateful things about the faith.  This was embarrassing, to say the least, to have to admit in front of my Muslim friends whom I respect deeply.  So here as part of my duties as a soon to be Peace Corps Volunteer let me dispel a few myths about Islam.  Firstly Islam is not in any way a religion that endorses, allows, or encourages terrorism.  It is just as morally wrong for a Muslim to kill in the name of Islam as it is for a Christian to kill in the name of Christianity.  Yes there are radical Muslims, but the vast vast vast majority are not and do not have any ill will towards America or other western countries.  Anyone who says that Islam is a religion of hate is just plain wrong, and is only causing further strife rather than encouraging understanding and peace.  In reality Islam, Christianity, and Judaism have a lot in common.  This is because they are all branches of the same faith.  Islam branched off from Christianity just as Christianity branched off from Judaism, and in fact Islam even recognizes Jesus as a prophet.  They just think that there was one more after him.  Because of this familial relationship between the faiths, Muslims afford special privileges to Jews and Christians as fellow “People of the Book”.  They consider them as worshipers of the same god and thus give them the same protections under Islamic laws.  The moral of the story here is that Muslims are not mysterious followers of a dangerous faith; they are wonderful, generous, moral people who deserve to be respected just as much as any other group of people on the planet.  Hopefully sooner or later this country will remember the lessons of the civil rights movement and apply them to everyone.  We shouldn’t have to relearn these things just because this time the people are Muslim or this time they’re Hispanic or this time they’re gay.  We can’t pick and choose when prejudice is ok and when it isn’t.  And that’s all I have to say about that.  Except this: if for some reason you disagree with me, do not post comments or try to debate with me here.  I will just delete them.  Are there issues within Islam that need to be discussed in an intelligent way?  Yes of course, as there are within any religion.  Is this the place? No.  I would be ashamed if one of my Muslim friends logged on to see a debate about the merits of their faith.  It is not something to be debated.

Sorry if that all sounded a little intense.  I have a strong sense of justice and I get a little passionate about things sometimes.  I’m sure that most of you would not adhere to such absurd beliefs about Islam.  So I spoke briefly in that section about my duties as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  One of the things I am mandated to do is to share my knowledge about Senegal with all of you back home.  Chico State I am so excited to be able to hopefully contribute to your Book in Common discussions.  The book is being shipped to me as we speak so within a month or so I should be able to blog about my first reactions to it and how it relates to my experience here.  I know that one of your goals is to learn more about Africa in general so students and professors alike if you have any questions about my work here or my general experiences please don’t hesitate to ask.  It is literally part of my job description to do this so really truly do not hesitate.  It may take me some time but I will answer all questions.  Also shout out to Kevin White’s sixth grade class.  I am very excited to be corresponding with you as well.  I’m not sure if any of you are reading… although Kevin probably is so HI. 

Ok I really didn’t intend for this post to be even longer than the last one… sorry… although if you’re reading the end it must have been interesting so you’re welcome J.  I think in the future I will try to write more frequent shorter entries.  We’ll see.  As always thanks so much for all the comments of support.  They’re really very helpful.  Eat some good food for me and if you’re over the age of 21 drink a Sierra Nevada too.  Until next time.

Cheers

Garrison

Pictures from Ngoudiane!

Senegal is pretty after a rain :-)

Ya Alima and Saliu Chillin

Me taking a break at our LCF's house during language class

Baobobs and Millet

My sweaty sheets after a nap.

Pulling water from the well.  The kids thought this was hilarious.

Lauren pulling water.  I think she still had 10m to go.

My breakfast one morning. Eggs sandwich! The bread came wrapped in that Chemistry HW in the background.

Lauren with Ya Astou at our LCF's house.  We like his family :-)

My cousins trying on their uncles sunglasses.

This is the magical tree of Africa.  Notice the millet directly under the tree is dark green.  The tree fixes nitrogen and drops its leaves in the rainy season so it doesn't shade crops.  Animals congregate under it in the dry season for shade and add more fertilizer. 

Ya Alima's parrots.  She named them after us.  Left to right: Bajir Rokia, Mbay, and Assane.  The recurring joke is that Lauren's parrot is the prettiest... ok fine its true. 

My niece Adama.  Super cute all the time :-) and yes that magazine in the background is Femme Actualle.  They don't read it, they just look at the pictures. 

The Toad of Truth

So I have been waiting and waiting for the perfect moment to start writing my blog entry for these two weeks and my muse has finally arrived.  I walked into my room tonight to grab my klean kanteen and I stepped on something.  It was dark so I couldn’t see what it was, but there was just enough moonlight to see the thing I stepped on scurry away.  Great, I thought, there are mice in my room… there aren’t mice in my room… I turned on the light and low and behold there was a toad the size of a tennis ball.  I called my mother in “Ya Nogoye Gari Gari” and she quickly took a broom and shooed the toad away.  Yes I have unequivocally found the impetus for starting this blog entry.  The toad of truth beckons you to read on. 

So where to start?  How about a confession: In all honesty I had been dreading these two weeks in the village.  Two weeks learning Seereer with only one other American and hardly any communication home just seemed like a prison sentence.  As I wrote in my previous post I’ve been struggling with living in the now and just accepting whatever comes my way.  Well I think that I have finally settled into some semblance of being present here in Senegal.  Things seemed to click on August 31^st when a somewhat surprise field trip snapped me out of village life and reminded me that there is an entire organization and methodology behind what I’m doing.  It is easy to forget that when you’re struggling to handle basic interactions in Seereer.  All of the frustration and loneliness just kind of seems irrelevant when placed in that greater context.  It’s just work and while its frustrating, that’s ok.  And really it’s perfectly normal.  As long as I remember that and stop wishing for my service to be different, then I can be happy.  I can’t fix all my problems, but I can fix the problem of not wanting to have problems (Buddhist proverb).   

Before you read any further, I apologize for this entry being obscenely long and disconnected.  I’m writing it over the course of these two weeks and while I am trying to connect the thoughts and create some sort of sense of this time, it may at times seem random and stream of consciousnessy… yes I just made up that word…  There are so many different stories I have to tell but alas there is neither time for me to write then nor adoring enough fans to listen to me ramble.  So here are just a few thoughts/ stories/ amusing anecdotes from my two weeks, not necessarily in chronological order.

Firstly a story about a man named Baba Kar.  Lauren and I have been doing our gardening TDA’s (Trainee Directed Activities) in the garden of a very nice man named Baba Kar Ning.  He gave us space to make our double dug beds and gave us manure with which to amend them.  He also let us use space in his large garden away from his house for our field crop TDA’s.  This larger garden is the source of my musings here.  Let’s just say it is a true wonder.  He started it in 2002 defying advice from family and friends who thought that it was a waste of time and money.  He proceeded to, by himself, plant an extensive live fence, procure a loan to bring in running water (currently cut off due to short supply), set up a massive composting system, and plant a variety of, well everything.  The fence is now impenetrable and the garden supplies many nutritious fruits and vegetable, which Baba Kar gives to family and friends and also sells for additional income.  This may not sound like anything that spectacular, but having vegetables in the bowl can mean the difference between a healthy family and one that merely survives.  Essentially Baba Kar is a model farmer and employs just about all of the techniques that Peace Corps teaches.  His garden (if it survives) will show the local community the value of vegetable gardening and how to do it in a sustainable way. 

I said if it survives because currently Baba Kar is fighting the local government in order to keep the land on which he has built his garden.  I’m not sure about the details, but essentially he is being evicted because the village wants to give his land to a family so that they can build a house.  He never technically owned the land, but was allowed to use it because it was a community space.  I don’t understand Senegalese politics but I do understand that for a whopping, drum roll please, 200 dollars he could own the land outright and not have his years of work demolished. For the first time here I have come face to face with the possibility of my family’s resources directly helping someone in need.  Of course there are always people in need and there are endless open palms waiting to accept money, but for the first time I see a singular problem with a simple solution and tangible benefits for many people.  Behold Pandora’s box.  Once it is opened it’s hard to close, but might this not be an instance where opening it is worth the price?  In Baba Kar we have everything that Peace Corps strives to create.  Basically he’s an even better version of a PCV because he’s Senegalese and lives in the community and thus has the potential to more easily influence people and help them adopt better techniques.  Also he is sustainable, not in the environmental sense (although he is), but in the sense that he will continue to benefit the community ad infinitum after the money is spent.  He doesn’t need continuous contributions, just this one time gift to establish him permanently.  And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.  I’ll keep you all updated on his legal battles and if the last resort of looking for money is necessary. 

Toad of Truth meet, your arch nemesis the BAT OF BAFFLEMENT!!! DUN DUN DUUUUN!  While the Toad of Truth inspires blog posts wherever it roams, the Bat of Bafflement inspires solely that, bafflement.  For those astute observers who may have guessed where this is going, yes there was a bat in my room this week as well.  It flew in through my window right before dinner and proceeded to fly around in circles looking for the exit.  I left my door and window open hoping it would leave while I ate dinner; half an hour later though it was still doing laps.  Honestly this bat probably did 500 or so laps around my room.  It was going like a bat out of… well Senegal I guess.  Once again I went to my Senegalese family for help.  My little brother got a broom and shooed it away… yes my family probably thinks I’m a total wimp.  Next story.

So something amazing happened during my time these two weeks.  I got to the point where I’m almost as comfortable with Seereer as French.  That’s pretty darn good for only 3 weeks of class.  With this newfound confidence I took it upon myself to challenge the children of Ngoudiane and their Toubab catcalls.  Here is one exchange from about a week ago. 

(Me walking down the street)

(Child) Toubab Toubab Toubab

(Me stopping to face the child) My name is not Toubab.  My name is Mbay Ngome.  I live in this village, right over there in the house of Choke. 

(Child) Silence

(Me starting to walk away)

(Child) Toubab Toubab Toubab. 

I guess even if you speak their language you are still a white person speaking their language.  It isn’t all that bad really.  The kids don’t mean anything by it; they just rarely see white people.  It really is interesting to be a minority for the first time in my life.  I think its something that everyone should experience at some point, not for the novelty of it but to truly understand what it’s like to be constantly watched and judged for something completely out of your control. 

Yes I am certainly an alien here.  You really start to realize how different you are when a toddler bursts into tears at the sight of you.  That one was pretty funny.  As different as I am though, I’m even more similar.  People are people everywhere in the world, and saying poop is funny in every language as I learned tonight with my LCF as we translated doing number 1 and number 2 into Seereer with his family and they couldn’t say it without laughing.  Side thought, I’ve come up with a number three: diarrhea plus vomiting… at the same time… some PCT’s call it double exiting… it’s something I experienced this stay as well.  Ok well not exactly at the same time but close enough.  You really haven’t lived until you have to do that in a smelly squat toilet… Yeah PCV’s live the glamorous live… and we get pretty comfortable talking about bodily functions so beware in future posts, they may get more graphic. 

Amazingly even with the occasional sickness, and frustrations there are so many things I already love about Senegal.  Walking down the street and seeing three children riding a donkey, drinking tea and trying to master the art of making foam, Baobab trees, seeing someone smile when they greet me in French and I answer in Seereer, playing with my new brothers and sisters, breaking the fast (no I’m not fasting, but the Senegalese are as generous with this as with everything else and insist I participate), seeing the milky way when the power goes out, walking around after it rains, greeting everyone I see in my village, getting my morning bread wrapped in the recycled paper from my brother’s chemistry hw (for those of you who think Africa is ignorant and disconnected, get with the 21^st century.  Most students learn at least as much in high school as Americans, plus they can speak 3-5 languages), saying good morning to my family’s horse Tang Tang which is quite possibly the best name for a horse ever, walking past goats tied to blocks of concrete, watching Lauren’s brothers take their three sheep through the house up to the roof so they wont get stolen at night, listening to Mika on my iPod during the loudest thunderstorm I have ever heard, and so much more. 

I’m almost done I swear.  If you’re still reading you get a gold star for the day and my sincere appreciation.  Today I found out my final site placement and I am absolutely thrilled.  I will be going to the small Seereer village of Dassilame in the Fatick region.  I know that that probably means absolutely nothing to you, but it’s awesome.  I’m about 5k from the picturesque touristy village of Toubacouta, which has great restaurants and general amenities.  A current PCV said that I basically have THE coveted site in Kaolack.  There’s a part of me that wants the quintessential Peace Corps experience without all of the comforts of internet café’s, restaurants, and cold beer, but after living here for a month I realize that in reality being able to go and unwind every once in a while will help me be a more productive volunteer, and that’s really why I’m here. 

It’s hard to believe that I’ve now lived in Africa for an entire month.  It has been filled with so many highs and lows and overall has been one of the hardest things I have ever done.  These past two weeks though have been a real breakthrough for me in feeling solidly into this PST and on my way to becoming a full-fledged PCV.  The panic has subsided and I’m finally getting excited about these next two years.  I have to come back to listening to my iPod during that thunderstorm.  It gave me unexpected time to think and, with the added scoring of my American soundtrack, became a really poignant moment.  It made me think of this quote, which I have overused for so many different things, but its one of my favorites:

"I had as yet no notion that life every now and then becomes literature-not for long, of course, but long enough to be what we best remember, and often enough so that what we eventually come to mean by life are those moments when life, instead of going sideways, backwards, forward, or nowhere at all, lines out straight, tense and inevitable, with a complication, climax, and, given some luck, a purgation, as if life had been made and not happened.
- Norman Maclean

Days will be hard and lonely sometimes, but I think I’m starting to see the narrative unfolding in this chapter of my life and in the end, with some luck, hopefully I will have an experience to remember as one of the times my life became art. 

I’m here to stay.

P.S.  Shout out to Lauren’s parents.  She is doing great from what I can tell.  I’ve loved getting to know about your family and what you do through Seereer class.  I’m definitely jealous of Tim and his first days of college, and the rock wall!   Boo Jaff Lakas.

P.P.S Shout out to Peter’s parents too… I heard you might be reading.  Peter is likewise doing well.  He’s definitely one of my favorite people to hang out with here, always positive and fun.  He’s two villages away from me for training and not too far at our final sites.  (I don’t know how to say bye in Wolof…) but bye! :-)