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! :-)