Mostly Harmless

Poop!

2012-02-09T08:10:00.000-08:00

Poop: An enclosed superstructure at the stern of a ship... Oh how I wish I was serving in a country where that definition was the focus of this post, but that is neither here nor there. No let's look at google's number two definition (oddly appropriate): Excrement. Hehe :-). Yes since the time of the dinosaurs poop has been funny. George Carlin has a wonderful rant about it, and Peace Corps volunteers will often bring it up as part of dinner conversation or quite literally show you a sample that they're about to send to the Med Office. We lead strange lives here. Yes we can all agree that poop is very very funny.

Unfortunately the poop in this post is no laughing matter. I'm talking about poop out in the fields, poop outside your front door, poop on the bottom of shoes, on ropes, on animals and eventually in the human digestive system where it causes all sorts of problems most of which lead to more poop! This is what happens when you live in a village where only 30% of the population uses latrines. Where do they poop you may ask? Refer to sentence number 2 of this paragraph. In case you didn't get that, they poop everywhere, and animals end up dragging themselves and ropes through it... they aren't pooping on animals directly... although you probably got that already. They don't mean to eat it either it just kinda gets on hands and.. ok right you get it, moving on. (I've been watching too much West Wing lately so I'm emulating Aaron Sorkin's comedic timing... or at least attempting to. What's next?)

I just so happen to live in said village and it's about time I did something about it. Now lest you think I'm trying to be the big bad westerner changing native culture when its not really necessary let me explain my motives. I'm not doing this because I want to. I don't want to in fact, its a heck of a lot of work and I really have other things I'd much rather be working on... hmmm that makes me sound heartless. I just mean that while I love dealing with other people's sh... stuff, I have quite enough of my own right now. The fact of the matter is, my village has been asking for this project and trying to get it done for 6 years. They're the driving force behind it, I'm just the facilitator.

So what is the project you may ask? Well I considered lessening the food intake of the village by burning down the gardens and thus reducing defecation, but something said that conflicted with my Ag sector work so let's move on to solution #2. We want to build 62 latrines in my and a neighboring village to get universal coverage for the entire population. Is that really so much to ask? They just want a place to poop. No gold toilets, no toilets at all for that matter, just a functioning brick lined latrine with a hole in the cover and a PVC pipe for insulation. Most people in America wouldn't even consider that a latrine, but stick up a few meters of millet stalk fencing around it for privacy and it gets the job done. And that job is important. This is about more than dignity, this is about health and wellness. With a place to poop, and almost more importantly a kettle and bar of soap for afterward, comes a general lessening of poopy bacteria spread out across the village. That means fewer instances of diarrhel diseases, especially among children who can die from them, and a much lower chance of outbreaks of the really bad diseases like cholera. Poop's funny, cholera isn't.

Is a brick lined latrine really better? Yes. The bacteria is contained out of the general food chain and all the poop eventually breaks down. They are slightly elevated to avoid flooding and have mosquito netting over the vent and a removable plug for the hole to prevent flies and mosquito from going in and out and spreading disease as they do. It ain't glamorous by any means but its better than open defecation.

Now that you're thoroughly disgusted and eager to help let my tell you how you can! I have written a Peace Corps partnership grant which is essentially a grant that Peace Corps administers but that folks back home have to fund. The total is a little over $7,000, which is actually pretty reasonable for 62 latrines, and I need all the help I can get. I can be flippant and crack jokes on here but I really do appreciate everyone who reads and I feel a tremendous guilt for asking you all so many times for money. There are a multitude of worthy charities in the world today and everyone is going through hard times, but if there's anything you can spare these folks really need it. It doesn't have to be a lot. If 1,400 give five bucks we're there. If a few people give a little more we're there faster. I'm young and a lot of you reading this are my friends just out of college. Don't give more than you can, but if you can go without the Starbucks for a few days I'd really appreciate it. I mean come on I'm going without Starbucks for two years! That's a lie I have a pile of Starbucks Via packets in my hut courtesy of all your lovely care packages. By the way as much as I love you all giving the USPS 50 bucks a pop for care packages I will be just fine without them. Next time you feel the urge to give me something delicious, donate that money to the project. Believe me you're still helping to make my food in village a little less shitty ;-). Thank you all so much. Here's the link if you're interested, and please pass it on if you can:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-196

Plastic Plastic Everywhere and not a...

2012-02-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

Hi Folks. Your friendly neighborhood Peace Corps volunteer here with a little itty bitty tiny question about just a wee little problem with some plastic...

This is a dump. In and of itself not so bad, there are lots of dumps in the world. You see the problem lies in the dump's location... right next to the delta... on a slope... that drains into the mangroves in the rainy season. In the dry season it does this:

The Sahel gets kind of... windy... and the trash blows oh so beautifully all over fields and then out into the delta. This is when it isn't just burned that is. The entire pile is periodically burned and then restarted. There are small piles of burned plastic all over the area along with aluminum cans, broken glass, and plenty of rotting organic matter as well. Sigh...

I wish I could say that this is unique, but this is a fairly small site. The larger cities do the same thing, only they are more efficient at burning it in massive piles that create terrible toxins. So plastic is kind of a problem here.

This situation is particularly unconscionable here though because the source of all this trash comes from the hotels in Toubacouta. One hotel is willing to work with us on the problem, the other threw a group of 20 some odd PCV's out on New Years Eve because we weren't the "right" kind of people and didn't speak French. Don't worry lonely planet has been contacted.

You're probably thinking that my question is what should I do about this problem. Sadly no. There are so many cooks in that kitchen already. No my question is what do you do when none of the ideal solutions are possible and leaving the problem alone is abhorrent (abhorrent, unconscionable my vocab is on fire today). At this point in my service I just don't have time to start a massive behavior change program to reduce plastic consumption and the hotels and the population aren't enthusiastic anyways. The previous volunteer in my site tried a waste management project and the village just stole her materials and used them for other things and then continued littering everywhere and burning everything. The non ideal solution is plastic incinerators which I've recently been told by several people are in fact much worse then just leaving the plastic where it is. I've been told the opposite as well. Everyone has their point of view and their personal priorities and agendas, not least of which the Senegalese people who quite frankly don't give a damn when they aren't food secure or would rather be making tea. I don't even know if it should be one of my priorities when I could be working on any number of things from pumps, to improved gardening, to health, to Female Genital Cutting, all of which are problems in my village. I just don't know (someone should go back and count how many times I've said that in blog posts throughout my service).

Then again if we could start a program that used a somewhat cleaner incinerator (cleaner than burning on the ground) and combined it with composting the organic material and then selling it, we could at least start the process of people putting waste into a system instead of throwing it on the ground and forgetting about it. That's the first step. That would be at least something, and something that didn't have plastic flowing into the ocean. Sure it's a higher impact being put on the world at large to protect this one area, but maybe the delta is worth it. Of course there are a million problems associated with it and its very possible that I'm just being lazy and I'm too scared to try to do the right thing becuase its hard and I've lost my idealism. Who knows. I feel like a trauma surgeon with my patient bleeding out and only a butter knife and a dirty oil rag to fix it.

Plastic plastic everywhere and not a thing to do about it...

Brevity is the Soul of Wit

2012-01-19T04:18:00.001-08:00

Shakespeare is brilliant. Let me explain… no there is too much let me sum up. The title of this post is a quote from Shakespeare’s Hamlet and is generally considered to be a nice proverb that makes lots of sense. It is and it does but lets look at it in context. There’s more there.

“My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
What day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. . . .”

- Polonius, Hamlet Act 2, scene 2, 86–92

Yes the quote is a lovely idea but in this context Polonius is being anything but brief in his simple task of telling the King and Queen that their son is mad. Brevity is the soul of wit but in real life, or Shakespeare for that matter, things are more complicated. Take Peace Corps for example. Yes this post is still about Peace Corps. There is something brilliant about the brevity of our services here. Two years isn’t very much time in the great scheme of things and in a way that ensures that this remains an experience rather than just a job. Its long enough to dig in and get our hands dirty but short enough that we still have to work quickly and value each holiday, birthday, rainy season, etc…

Now about that getting our hands dirty thing. My hands are filthy. Yes in the end I’ll be able to look back on my service with cathartic nostalgia, mixed with inspirational quotes, remembering forever that short time I lived in West Africa. In the thick of it though, much like Hamlet, I’m not quite sure what to do and I’m going a little mad… or I’m faking madness to avenge my father… that’s probably not likely though. I mean for me not Hamlet, but that’s beside the point. Anyways, I had a dream the other day, and by the other day I mean 6 weeks ago because that’s how often I blog lately, that my service was over and I had to find a way to adjust back to America. I was terrified, I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t feel like I did enough, and I had no idea how to relate to my own country. Thanks brain… Gotta love those moments when subconscious thoughts and fears are so blatantly easy to interpret. Yes these are my thoughts and fears as of late. I’m trying to set up the rest of my service, write grants, start projects, hang out with friends before they leave, and right in the thick of it have a Family Vacation!

My Mother, Father, Brother and Girlfriend just came for a whirlwind 12-day family vacation to Senegal. How can you sum up Senegal in 12 days? In spite of the obvious answer you can’t, I think we did a pretty good job. There was pick pocketing and culture clash, sheep eating and dancing, gift giving and gratitude, and finally towards the end even some rest and relaxation at the beach. 12 days of every emotion under the sun and the inevitable bitterness of fresh separation once again. Brevity is the soul of wit. This trip really was brief, and it was book ended on my side by a lot of work. It’s almost like it never even happened. It provided some much needed perspective though and fresh eyes to remind me why all of this is so important. We can get pretty cynical about helping people here so its nice to have guests come in and remind us that the village standard of living really is bad and they do need help. The finer points of development theory are important but we can’t get so bogged down in them that we sabotage our potential to actually do the work. Speaking of work, this vacation also showed me that even after all of my worrying about putting work aside and not getting things done, nothing bad really happened and all my projects are still there right where I left them. We need vacations, not just to recharge but to break up the stream of events in our lives. I talk a lot about narratives, did I ever mention that I’m an actor, and in the course of narratives the action can’t just go up and on in one direction forever. There is an overall arc to my service and that will be what I remember in the end, but for now while I’m living it I need those little wins, those little rises and falls, climaxes and denouements. It’s what makes the day to day bearable.

Not that the day to day is ever that bad really. I recently finished watching Band of Brothers and was reminded how easy my life is. No one is trying to kill me, I have plenty of food, and ultimately I have control over my life and can leave whenever I want. Perspective. Sorry this post has been a long time coming so there are lots of random thoughts I’m trying to work in. Compared to life in America things here are difficult, compared to wartime it’s easy. Apples and Oranges really but these things are important to remember when trying to make up excuses to be unhappy.

After the family left I went straight to the 2012 West African All Volunteer Conference for Peace Corps Volunteers and was given even more perspective. This was held in Thies and I presented on two projects, rope pumps and mangrove reforestation. I also had the pleasure of watching several other presentations, which got me thinking about new projects that I could be doing but for which, in reality, I have hardly the time to think. Yes I’m trying to set up the end of my service and yet I still have no idea what I’m doing or on what I should really be focusing my time. The only thing for certain is that there isn’t much time: Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad. . . . But at least I’m enthusiastically mad. Back to village my friends…

Personal Identity: Who am I, what and I doing here, and do I have to list Lamine Seydi on Government forms under “names I’ve used”?

2011-11-25T08:48:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone. I’m trying to get back into the blogging regularly habit so here’s another post! This actually ties into what I talked about last time, but a little more me focused… because my blog usually isn’t all about me… Humility really is my best quality… humor me!

So last time I talked about rumors, and believe you me there are lots of rumors here. What I didn’t really touch on though are the rumors that pertain to me. Don’t get excited yet, I won’t be revealing any dark secrets today. I’m talking about rumors of who I am and what I’m doing here. There is an American narrative of what we think Peace Corps is and does, and just like other narratives it is somewhat… well… fake… Chris Hedrick don’t fire me yet, this is going somewhere I promise. Fake isn’t necessarily bad; in many ways we do things a lot better than would be expected of a volunteer organization, and in some ways we’re worse. It’s complicated. That I believe is where the misconception lies. Life, work, and personal identity here are so much more complicated than anyone realizes. I talk with friends back home and the first thing they say is invariably, “What you’re doing is so amazing” or “You’re really making a difference in the world” or “You must be having such an amazing time”. The list goes on. This I suppose is the essence of the Garrison Harward Peace Corps Narrative. It’s a rumor and well… its kind of false. I have saved zero babies since arriving, most of my demos have either failed or fell on deaf ears, and in the long run my projects probably won’t be the tipping point of success and prosperity for my village. On top of this, as much as I love my family and Senegalese culture… there have been times where I wanted to burn my village to the ground. No not literally but you get the point. This is a rather cynical view of my role here, but lets face it denial isn’t healthy either. I am under no pretense that I am saving anyone by being here. It’s just not true.

Now before I get a thousand comments boosting my ego and telling me my cynical views aren’t true, I will give myself some credit. Yes this experience is hard and I’m proud that I’m getting through it and I understand why people identify with and support me. The disconnect between the support and my own perceptions of my work here are just a little hard to reconcile.

There’s actually a lot that’s hard to reconcile in terms of personal identity here. I feel like a juggler, or maybe a master of disguises, or a con artist… In any case I wear a lot of different hats in Senegal and to a certain extent I’m not sure which one is the real me. In village I’m Lamine Seydi: Peace Corps Volunteer, bringer of strange water pumps, tree sacs, and seed varieties, who kind of speaks Serere, but not quite as well as Adama Junko (the previous volunteer), and who doesn’t really like to sit around and talk, but who works pretty hard and wants to bring us latrines, which is generous, but they could be a lot better, which is just like most of his generousity which is a little stingy. At least this is how I perceive their perceptions of me… Lamine Seydi is surely a part of my persona but he’s a pretty simplistic version. I suppose this is why it so nice to be around other Americans. It isn’t just about being able to speak English or eat American food, its about being able to just be without constantly thinking about forming your identity. That being said though the Garrison with Peace Corps friends is different than the one around Peace Corps admin, which is different then the one around family etc… Who am I?

Rumors boil down a lot of complex social dynamics into a sort of average truth. I said that in the last post and I guess it holds true to me as well. The rumors about me are true, but they’re simplistic and when so much of my life in Senegal is led with only the most basic transactional understanding of my identity on the part of those around me, its hard to really know who I am. I believe in the theory of relativity: we (human beings, souls, bunches of molecules, whatever) are constantly changing in reaction to outside forces. Yes there is a certain essence, which dictates some of how we interact, but essentially we are nothing in and of ourselves without the other. Call it what you will: religion, philosophy, acting theory, natural law of the universe, the results are the same; being in a very different cultural setting where no one here or at home fully understands me is making me feel a little crazy. Not that I’m going insane or anything… but my Myers Briggs scores are…

So last week I decided to take the test again, mostly because I was bored and a bunch of people were doing it at the house. I was surprised to see that my scores had changed quite a bit. I posted this on facebook and got a myriad of responses from some who have had this happen and others who feel that the core you doesn’t really change and the test may just be the wrong version or reflecting my reactions to stress here. I don’t know what I believe about nature vs. nurture, or astrology or even Myers Briggs, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I’m just not convinced that people stay the same over time. We create the narrative of our lives, I believe much more deliberately than we realize. We tell ourselves who we are, what’s important, what we want to be, what’s right and wrong. Think of it like a building of personal identity with the foundation firmly rooted in our assumptions of culture, family, god etc… Take away the foundation though (by going to Senegal for example) and build on a couple of strange guest room additions for new personas and the overall structure looks a lot less certain and sturdy than it did before. I found myself during the test being completely unsure of who I am and what I actually prefer. So many of those preferences seem situational and completely different out of the context of the United States.

As a species I am utterly convinced that we are fantastic liars, at least to ourselves. We end up saying “this is who I am” and believing it when things are probably not so concrete. Surely Myers Briggs has value, surely there is intrinsic personal identity, but more important, at least for me right now, is the transactional and situational realities of identity. Who am I with, when, if, etc…

I don’t remember why we were talking about this. Maybe the overall idea here is once again that the world is really complex and we need to be aware of those complexities rather than putting everything is neat little labeled boxes.

So time to wrap up this post and put a bow on it… We all wear different hats, each revealing various facets of our being with varying levels of truth. Youthful crises of identity are plentiful, but perhaps more so in Peace Corps where our foundations are shaken daily by cultural differences, hallucinogenic malaria drugs, and the most shocking thing of all, the naked truth of who we really are at our core. Lies are quite a bit easier to swallow than that.

Cheers,

Garrison Harward

P.S. I’ve been assured that in the future I do not have to list Lamine Seydi, as a former name. The split personality syndrome will come to an end! :-P

Rumors

2011-11-11T05:34:00.000-08:00

Where do you get your information? Is it fact, hearsay, rumor, blasphemy, primary sources, secondary sources, apparitions from biblical burning shrubbery, and do you even really know the difference? Dismount!   Thank you I'll take that, here's your tag. That was all of us getting off our high horses, and checking our assumptions at the door to really think about this. Don't worry you can ride off into the sunset with any manner of ideological superiority complex you want once we're done. Now onwards and upwards.

Living in a small African village with hardly any regular primary sources of information has taught me the power of rumors in a pretty profound way. Information often passes through many mouths before it reaches Dassilame Serere and as such its pretty hard to determine fact from personal opinion. As in any other society in the world though this is no hindrance whatsoever to my village's ability to be absolutely certain of what it knows... and this can lead to problems... For example my host brother Omar recently tried to convince me that Osama Bin Ladin is in fact not dead and is a great learned person... let's digest this a little bit. On first hearing this I was pretty shocked and more than a little uncharacteristically nationalistic. We argued back and forth for a while and I ended up getting somewhat frustrated so I stopped the conversation. Surprisingly what was frustrating wasn't my brothers views. It was his certainty.   All his arguments were wrong but it essentially boiled down to the fact that someone he trusted told him this so it was true. In the history of human story telling this is perfectly normal and understandable, but in our modern context of complex world politics its down right scary. The final straw that ended the conversation was when I asked my brother if he wants Americans to die, because Bin Ladin killed Americans. He flipped this right back at me though and asked if I want Muslims to die, because George Bush killed lots of Muslims. Touche Omar, Touche...

As much as I want to say Omar is dumb and I'm smart he's got a point, and maybe here is a positive aspect of rumors; while they can perpetuate a lot of untruths, they also help to boil down a lot of complex information into a sort of average truth. Omar's information about Osama Bin Ladin is factually wrong, but its part of a complex social narrative that gets at a lot of the truth of American/ Muslim political and social interactions. It shows the mistrust many Muslims have for western governments, and their bitterness at what can often seem like a hatred on our part for their faith. Think of rumors as a kind of social barometer for international/ interfaith/ inter-anything relations. Listen to the rumors and you can probably tease out the nature of the relationship. So what do we do about this? I said earlier that this kind of a rumor is scary and it is. It shows the true importance of our image as a nation and illustrates just how much of the moral high ground we've lost in this "War on Terror".   Now more than ever we need that moral high ground if we ever hope to rid the world of ignorance and hate. Those little compromises we make, sacrificing human rights for strategic reasons, or not being as generous as a nation in our situation should be, aren't really little at all; they add to the ongoing narrative that the world creates about us and that narrative is far more pervasive then any "facts" we try to spread . It's in my little village so there probably aren't many places it isn't.

This is why Peace Corps is so successful. I wish I could say that our greatest gift is the work we do, but it isn't. Our gift to the American people (notice not the countries we serve) is a positive image of the caring, hard-working America that whether true or not is part of our national narrative that we value and want to perpetuate. I say true or not because once you start thinking in these terms its really hard to tell where to draw the line. As a species we tell stories, we speak in metaphor and simile, and regardless of our actual knowledge level we create a certain certainty of the world around us. It's just not in human nature to humbly step aside and say we don't know; when we don't know we make it up. Yes how we see the world is story, not fact, and I argue that it probably isn't any more truthful then the stories told in my village.

Whoooaaahh there buddy, no jumping back up on that high horse yet.   I know this is pretty cynical but its a much healthier view then claiming absolute certainty of the righteousness and moral superiority of our actions. We simply can't afford to be that nation. We need to be better than that. Of course everything in the real world falls in between and things are far too complex to be speaking in these terms. On the other hand look at the political discourse in America and tell me if its more based on fact or narrative. Most of the time the overall political landscape is far too complex for the average person to take the time to digest and understand, so our news networks tell stories. They paint the characters as hero's or villains, and create conflicts, climaxes and catharses enough to keep us watching when the true arc of the story is much larger and harder to understand. The world is complex. I guess that is the moral of the story.   Many of my blog posts come to that conclusion so it must be true. We need to be skeptical of the views we hold and the things we call "facts" because in the end most everything is just a rumor to a greater or lesser degree.   But don't take my word for it. Remember too that I'm telling you a story. We started out with my brother perpetuating something untrue and I extrapolated that we don't necessarily know any more then him. Tell a different story and my conclusions could sound like total BS. Just food for thought.

Cheers,
Garrison

P.S. Did you guys here that Obama is planning on mining for gold on the moon to solve the economic crisis and the Republicans are against it because it will attract the martian labor unions and their socialist influence! Just saying :-)

MANGROVES!!!

2011-09-23T08:27:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while projects just work... This probably doesn't sound like a radical idea but trust me in Peace Corps it really is. This past week we had the second annual Mangrove Reforestation Day just outside of Toubacouta. We got together with 28 PCV's, 30 Senegalese volunteers and 30,000 seedlings and went to town. Before we get to the details here's a little back story. Toubacouta is situated in the delta region of Senegal and is surrounded by thousands of acres of mangroves. In fact at first glance there doesn't really seem to be a shortage of them... There are however large areas that have been deforested for fuel, building materials, and because of oyster harvesting. Mangroves are crucial for the ecology of the delta. They clean the water, prevent erosion and provide a habitat for countless species of birds, fish, and apparently, but very rarely, manatees. They're just awesome trust me.

Now that you're thoroughly convinced of the value of the program here are the details. As I said this is the second annual Mangrove day. The first was put on by my former site-mate Cail Hegeman in conjunction with the NGO Oceanium. Now Cail had told me how easy this project was with Oceanium's help, but I didn't quite believe him. I was flabbergasted. Essentially Jamie Whitehead, Robert Rivera, and I organized the volunteers and told Oceanium the date we wanted to do the program and they took care of the rest. They brought the seedlings, they brought the womens' groups, they brought the boats, they chose the site, I brought the boisson (that was a surprise reward at the end). This is not normal. In all my other interactions with NGO's they are not this reliable. Go Oceanium! Anyways we got to Toubacouta the 16th, checked into our hotels and had some very important discussions and work meetings and... no not really, we went to the fancy hotels and drank beer and swam in the pool as thunderstorms approached. Don't worry mom I got out when the thunder and lightning were less than 5 seconds apart... most did not...

The next day we all got up early and headed out to the Mangrove site. Here's where Oceanium could have been a little more... upfront... In all of our discussions I was led to believe that we were doing the reforestation just three kilometers outside of Toubacouta. We did indeed travel three kilometers outside of Toubacouta... and then piled into a boat and traveled another hour into the delta. This was not part of the plan. Apart from some extra sun exposure though it was fine. When we got the the site we all met up and discussed the general importance of Mangroves and then got to work. Some people started sorting mangrove seedlings (we had to throw away a lot of broken ones) while others started planting. The site for the reforestation was huge, over 10 hectares (almost 25 acres). I imagined we were only going to finish a tiny part of the beach, but once we started going and the kids got their hands on seedlings we were flying. As a side-note all of the kids and women were Sereres! Sooooo nice to be able to speak my own language outside of my village. Also that's probably why we got so much work done; Sereres are awesome. Anyways we worked our way down the beach planting lines of seedlings every two meters until suddenly we were at the end... Well almost. It was an insanely hot day and the tide started coming up really fast so we stopped a few hundred meters short of the end of the beach. Also when the tide comes up over sand that's been baking in the sun for the past 4 hours the water just about boils. It was kind of unbearable to walk through.

All told we probably reforested a total of 5-8 hectares (we didn't plant on the upper beach). I need to talk to the Oceanium representative to get a better estimate. As we walked back to the boats I quizzed the kids on the importance of mangroves and they enthusiastically gave me all the right answers. It was at this point that I revealed my secret surprise of ice cold boisson (strawberry cool-aid basically). They loved it! We parted ways with smiles and then quickly got lost in the mangroves and had to turn around. We found our way eventually and made it back without losing a
single volunteer. Success!

It really is odd to just have things work. I've been here a year and this is the first project that was unequivocally a success. It just isn't usually so clear cut. I guess this isn't in the overall sense of development either, but its pretty good. There are a lot of NGOs that work with Mangroves, but few bring together so many people as equal work partners for a day like this. That's the Peace Corps way. We don't always get the biggest projects done but the ones we do are quality. Thanks to everyone who helped! It was a great day. Enjoy some extra picture :-) Cheers!

Serere children with mangrove seedlings.

My new site-mate Rob with some of our helpers.

Hard at work. Look at the pretty lines of seedlings :-)

Large deforested area.

Me planting a seedling.

David getting some help cooling off :-)

Rob showing off his dance moves.

Me with some new friends.

The long walk back after planting. We were all very tired.

Boisson!!!

Boat full of very tired Toubabs :-)

Repetition, Repetition, Repetition

2011-09-05T09:31:00.000-07:00

Don't bother trying to change anything, everything is always the same. Don't bother trying to keep things the same, everything is always changing. This is a paraphrasing from a book on acting called "Tips" and today I feel it is particularly poignant to my life. One of my favorite things about theatre, and art in general, is its ability to hold conflicting truths as equally valid. Nothing ever changes/ everything changes, yin/ yang, masculine/ feminine, light/ dark, sin/ virtue, matter/ anti-matter (for the Star Trek fans among us). The essence of life is not in the thinning down of the Universe into one set of right answers, but rather in the conflict between opposing but equally valid forces. Maybe conflict is even too loaded of a word. The essence of life lies in interaction. We are nothing in and of ourselves. We only exist in relation to others and the world around us. Mmmm big thoughts. Theory of relativity perhaps? Maybe even some dangerous moral relativism sneaking in. What's the point? I've been back in village for a week and a half and I'm struck by the conflicting truths that nothing ever changes while somehow at the same time everything is changing. My life here can seem like groundhog's day so much of the time. I get up, go through the same routine, have the same conflicts, admire the same things, eat the same food, go to bed and repeat. At the same time though things are slowly changing. The language is more solid every day, the failures, while frustrating, are less devastating, and the moments of peace are more appreciated. Repeat the same routine enough times and things will evolve. I'm struck once again by how the macro rules of the universe seem to filter down into everyday life...

Repetition: Senegal, as with the rest of the world, seems destined to repeat its problems over and over again. I've been back in village for a week and a half and I'm facing the same excuses for why the tree nursery wasn't out-planted, or why the field crops weren't weeded or fertilized and why in general none of my solutions seem feasible in the real world. All the while I'm marveling at the repeated rituals; the archetypal football rivalries between neighboring villages, the births and baptisms, the deaths and funerals, and the constant march of the seasons with all that they bring. The relentless repetition of life can make for a lot of frustration, but at the same time its what defines our humanity. We, like all other animals, are irrevocably bound to cycles, even if in the west we like to define life in terms of seemingly linear progress.

Repeat something enough times however and its bound to change and this applies to everything, the good the bad and the ugly. I had a wonderful theatre teacher who loved repetition. She would tell us, "Don't think, don't create, just repeat". "Repeat what?" we would ask. "You've already begun" she would reply. We would start from nothing. What happens if you repeat nothing? Well life happens in all its marvelous chaotic beauty. From nothing things would simply start to happen: someone would cough, a shoe would squeak, a door would slam. With each new unexpected, unplanned event we had the choice whether to ignore it and blindly repeat the past, or accept it as the new truth of the moment and adopt it into our repetition. I'm not saying we should always ditch the old for the new, but I can say one of these options creates a much more interesting spontaneous theatrical composition. Theatre through evolution. It really makes perfect sense. What is evolution but a series of imperfect repetitions which respond to the new truth of the moment. Think what life would be if those ancient amoebas just played it cool and denied the new tail they developed in favor of trying to be like mom and dad. Think of the actor who would play the scene exactly the same even if the chandelier fell right in front of them. It just wouldn't work.

Amoebas? Actors? Evolution? Have you lost the thread of this post? Good I'm not alone. We are doomed to repeat our failures, we are blessed to repeat out traditions. No matter how hard we try some things will never change, no matter how hard we try some things will never stay the same. Come on now keep up. Roll with the punches. Break!

Now this is a hard enough pill to swallow in everyday life but it's especially hard as a development worker whose underlying mandate is to fix the bad parts without messing up the good. I think its important though to take a lesson from my two theatre examples and realize that first we are a whole lot less powerful then we think and second that some of the most elaborate solutions come out of the natural varience of repition. Evolution's photocopier has solved a lot more difficult problems than helping Senegal. Once again though this kind of Buddhist patience is difficult when you only get two years and thus two repetitions of most things to try to make an impact. Trial and error, which is how we end up working anyways, is a slower process than this. I'm at the one year mark of my service and thus things have started repeating a lot. Let me take this opportunity then to repeat some ideas from a previous post and see if I can't tie this whole mess together and give you all the wondrous intellectual catharsis I know you crave from my lovely blog... ok probably not but I'll try not to leave you in muddled frustration... myself included.

Even for all of my doubts about my efficacy here, there is one area where I know I can make a difference, and it is something I will work at for the rest of my life. I have come to know Islam a lot better than most Americans, and with the 10th anniversary of 9/11 fast approaching I feel it is my patriotic duty to once again reach out and defend this peaceful faith. I wrote a post about Islam in more detail during PST so I won't be delving too deeply today, but I do want to say one important thing. Every year around this time Islam comes into question once again. Be it through 24hr network news reports or through word of mouth, the merits of this faith are unfairly scrutinized in a way that Christianity and Judaism simply aren't. Beyond just the faith, Muslims are persecuted. In America they are made to feel unpatriotic, or worse, as if they aren't real citizens. I don't know a whole lot about Islam in America but I hear the slander and it needs to stop. This is the 10th repetition of 9/11 and that gives it more symbolic power than usual. Nostalgia would say for many to not let go of the passion and importance surrounding this date while the reality of the situation is that for better or for worse things have cooled down. We don't hate the Japanese on Pearl Harbor day, we certainly don't have to hate Muslims on 9/11. Now I realize I'm preaching to the choir here... probably... but nonetheless its time to let this day evolve and stomp out the ignorance which in inevitably invokes in much of the population. If you hear someone making an anti-Islamic comment, say something. If you see news coverage which is unfair, call in an say so. I just participated in my second Korite (the end of Ramadan) and saw the beauty once again of a faith based on peace and compassion, and I see no reason why anyone should fear it or persecute its followers. Reach out to your local Mosque and make this 9/11 about coming together and healing rather than perpetuating hate. Some of the rifts between Muslims and Christians will probably never go away, but as we repeat these rituals year after year there's no reason that we need to deny that the world is evolving and we can coexist with peace and understanding.

Sometimes I feel like I will never understand the world. Sometimes I feel like I understand it better every day. I guess I had better keep waking up to see what changes next.

Down the Rabbit Hole

2011-08-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things about writing is its power to take my jumbled mind and order it into some sort of meaning, even if that meaning is really only valuable for myself. People keep blogs during their services for a multitude of reasons. Sometimes they're for staying connected back home, sometimes for educating Americans about the developing world, and sometimes just for personal reflection. I suspect every blog touches each of these from time to time: today, if you will allow, I'll be diving headfirst into the latter of the three. I am at a loss for words so that seams like the perfect place to start talking.

What is the real world? Yep I get right to the tough questions. How bout we just let that one simmer for a while and we'll get back to it.

For the past year I have lived and worked in Senegal attempting to help my village with small scale sustainable development projects to improve food security, access to clean water, and sanitation. Or at least that's what the development rhetoric says. In a less euphemistic sense I have struggled to learn a native language, while adapting to a very foreign culture and trying to find appropriate solutions to serious problems without reducing my village's capacity for independence and individual initiative all while also balancing my family at home and a long distance relationship and trying to keep up the motivation to get out of bed every morning. It's been a tough year. It's difficult to see all of these complexities from the idyllic Peace Corps posters and advertisements but they're there. Nothing is ever as it seems. I think the most important thing that I've taken away from this experience so far is a very healthy respect for the complexities of the world. I suppose that's pretty important in our modern world of simplistic categorical politics. My feelings about Senegal and her people are so very complex as well. In some ways Senegalese are absolutely amazing, incredible, generous people, and then someone tells me that I'm bad because I won't give them money, or build them a house or buy them fertilizer, or I watch them rip up their childrens' mosquito nets to use in the garden and I just want to give up.

There are deep-rooted cultural and situational reasons for many of the things that drive Peace Corps Volunteers crazy and when you look at it from this birds eye view there isn't much reason to get angry. When your brother has a seizure though because your host dad would rather buy tea then medicine it gets pretty personal. I have been trying to organize a latrine project in my village for a very long time, its one of the first things they asked me to do. I put it on hold though because my counterpart was trying to extort me for very elaborate and expensive latrines, which Peace Corps will not build. Then I listened to a TED talk by Bill Clinton where he listed off standard statistics about the billions of people without access to sanitation and I suddenly felt silly that I was angry because my village wanted nice bathrooms. Peace Corps Volunteers can seem really harsh when we talk about our villages, but that's often because people don't understand what we're here to do. We are not placed in our villages to give them a bunch of free stuff, we're there to try to find ways that they can get what they need on their own. Santa Claus development work simply isn't effective. There's a fine balance between giving and teaching and too far in either direction doesn't work.

Yes it’s been a hard year, which is why on August 4th I went on VACATION!!! I met up with my family and girlfriend in the French Alps for two and a half weeks of quality relaxation in the first world. Things immediately got off to a rocky start. I come from a very intellectual family and thus every problem I brought up was met with theories, justifications, or possible solutions when all I really wanted was to vent. I being a passionate person lost my temper. We made up of course and the vast majority of the trip was lovely, but it was telling that even with my family I felt a disconnect between what I do in Senegal and their understanding of third world dynamics. Development work is so complex. You could study it for twenty years and know all the data and case studies, but until you're on the ground working and feeling those complexities, it's impossible to fully comprehend them.

Lordy this has become such a whiny post. Back to vacation. Oh my god Europe is nice! I had forgotten what it was like to walk through a city without garbage, where cars stop for you, and people don't call you "white guy" and where the food is as delicious as it is varied. The first world feels like such a fairy tale compared to Senegal. Well now has it boiled over or are we still just simmering? Yes it's time for that question again. What is the real world? I honestly can't tell you. Some would say the first world is an artificial construct built on intrinsic inequality and abuse of cheap third world labor. That however would be just as false as saying the real world is the poor starving children of the bottom billion who live on less than a dollar a day. I was flabbergasted by the amount of money we spent in Europe, and we weren't extravagant. I went from a village where a $3 chicken is a treat eaten only once or twice a year to a land where people can spend upwards of $100 for just one bottle of wine. How can these realities both exist on the same planet? What is the moral implication of that? In any case denying either is both unhelpful and absurd. There is massive inequality in our world, that can’t be denied, but the only thing that seems to help bring people up is an intrinsic desire to improve ones life. Shouldn't we thus then be able to enjoy the fruits of our labors since that motivates others to work harder as well? Yes and no. We have to be able to enjoy our success, that's what any person would do if given the opportunity, but we need to recognize that we are not intrinsically entitled to that success. Each of us for better or for worse is the product of billions of little accidents that placed us in a position to either take advantage of opportunities or be constantly pushed to the side.

So what to do? I wish I knew. Buddhists would say observe rather than judge or deny, so lets observe these conflicting truths about the world and hold them in our brains and hearts the next time we go to a voting booth or pass a homeless person, or buy a fancy car, or donate money to a charity. The first world is not as fake as some might say, and the third world not as true and noble. Both are real and more complex than any one person can comprehend. I feel like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, only I’m not sure which side is wonderland. Who would have ever thought a nice vacation could make me even more confused about my life here. Such is life. Time to dive back into the work.

Cheers!

Garrison

10,000 Hours

2011-07-03T11:14:00.001-07:00

Am I still alive you may ask? Yes, yes I am. After a few glorious moments of relief (I knew you were all worried), you may further inquire, then where the heck have I been for the past month. Indeed I have been sadly neglecting my blog duties and believe me my journal is even sparser as of late (I actually spent the better part of the afternoon yesterday piecing together what I did everyday and writing it down because there was something very unnerving about having weeks go by where I had absolutely no recollection of what I did). I could simply offer my standard excuses, “I’ve been busy”, “I’ve been traveling”, “I’ve been sick”, but all of those are hideously boring and don’t really give you any insight into what’s actually going on in my life, or provide my future self with any real anchor to remember this experience when I’m old and Alzheimery. Lets dig a little deeper. What have I been doing for the past month? I’ve been putting in my 10,000 hours.

If all goes according to plan, my Peace Corps experience will be just over 800 days long. My work here includes cultural exchange along with actual development work, and then a hefty amount of sharing back home through things like this. That means that every day I am working pretty much from the moment I open my door to the time I go to bed. Give or take 4-6 hours depending. For arguments sake let’s say I “practice” my Peace Corps skills then for 12 hours a day, which is a very conservative estimate. 800 x 12 = 9,600 hours. Every volunteer says that at the end of your two years you’re just about ready to start making a real impact, and based on these numbers I believe that’s true. Malcom Gladwell says that it takes the average person 10,000 hours to master something meaning that I’m not going to be really all that good at what I’m doing until I leave. Now that’s a depressing thought. It’s kind of liberating too though as it means I’m normal. Throughout this whole experience I’ve been plagued by feelings of self-doubt and just thinking that I’m not good enough at what I’m trying to do. In many ways I’ve never been worse at any other job: not since I was a baby have I not been able to communicate, or navigate culture. It’s certainly a rude awakening into the real world of our personal strengths and, more often, weaknesses. New college grads think they know everything; they’ve honed their abilities and are ready to take on the world. I’m pretty sure that everyone finds out sooner or late that that confidence is an illusion; I just think Peace Corps forces that humility a little faster than usual.

Now if we take away the standard western impatience to get things done quickly, then the 10,000 hour rule really is a blessing. It gives the world permission to fail and failure is a beautiful thing: it’s the only way we can ever truly move forward. I have failed so many times here it’s absurd. My failures range from mixing up the words for goat and donkey so that I accidentally told my family that American’s like donkey cheese, to watching a 1,000 tree pepiniere die because the women’s group forgot to water it, to crying on the roof of the Kaolack house after spending two days trying to get a water pump to work and finally giving up. Failure sucks but its necessary, as is time. I decided to give myself a little challenge to not go to the regional house for the entire month of June and to spend as much time as possible in village just working. Partly I did this because I’m swamped with projects; partly I did it out of pride. This month was hard! I don’t know the last time you worked 7 days a week for a month, but it sucks. Something amazing happened though about two weeks in. Firstly I felt my language skills soar, I fell into a rhythm with my projects and fixed a lot of their problems, and most importantly I stopped worrying so much about whether or not I was doing any of it “right”. I started to see that this is a long learning process and I’m just not going to get it all right away. I also started to see that without a lot of stress, these skills will just come on their own over time. Take language for example. Just being around Serere for so long now I’m understanding new things every day. Patience is indeed a virtue and a relief that gives us leave to take our time.

So how about the nitty gritty: what HAVE I been doing this month? Here’s a little recap. The month started with selecting the farmers to whom I would extend improved varieties of field crops. On the 8^th and the 9^th, our sub region had two days of “louma circuses” where we played loud American music at weekly markets and taught people about Malaria and how to make inexpensive mosquito repellent from local plants, soap and oil. On the 11^th I went down to Karang and Massarinko to work on two rope pumps, both of which had terrible problems initially. The 14^th-16^th I had a French language seminar in Toubacouta to try to actually learn a language I can use outside my village. The 20^th I had to make a day tip to Kaolack to pick up grant money for the pump project, then on the 21^st I went down to Karang to finish up the pump there and work with our Master Farmer. The next two days were more seed extension work in village, and then on the 24^th we had our subregional meeting and I started working on Rope Pump how-to videos with our third year video man. On the 26^th I seeded millet with my family and then went to the girls Leadership camp in Sokone where Byron and I lead image theatre exercises with the girls to help them think about the identity of women in Senegal and roles within the family. On the 29^th I biked to Emily Tran’s site to talk to her village about a pump, then spent the day working with her on her projects. On the 30^th I biked back to Toubacouta where I worked on the pump blog for the morning and then distributed more seed in my village in the afternoon. On the 1^st Byron and I went back to the camp to do one more round of Image theatre and saw that the girls really improved over the course of the week. By the end of the exercise we actually had one girl who made an image of a man and women doing 6 different jobs ranging from the military to being a lawyer with no hint of domesticity. On the 2^nd I finished up distributing seed in my village and today I headed into Kaolack for a little break. Yes I have been busy.

I am going to fail many more times in my service, but at least practicing my scales is starting to pay off.

Cheers,

Garrison

P.S. Yo America guess what? Its yo birthday tomorrow!!!! Let’s party it up bro!

Separation and Connection

2011-05-29T05:39:00.000-07:00

What can I say on the subject of separation? Well I’ve become quite accustomed to that concept as of late. At first it was a sharp pain of losing so much so quickly. That eased into a dull ache only really noticeable in moments of isolation. Now everything just feels far away. I have never felt so far away from America, my culture, my family and friends, and who I thought I was. Every day makes it harder and harder to communicate this experience to anyone back home and at the same time makes me less sure of everything I thought I knew about the world around me and indeed myself as well. I used to think I knew what 3^rd world countries needed, I used to think I knew what was right and wrong (now I yell at poor African children who are rude to me), I used to think capitalism with its big corporations was evil, I used to think I knew who I was with my strengths and weaknesses, I used to think I knew my family and my relationship with them. Everything is up in the air now. I skype with people back home and answer the same questions about how “Africa” is like I’m some sort of authority on the continent now. I browse Facebook and see my friends continuing on in their lives as I get farther and farther away from them. I read my hometown newspaper and magazine and realize that my small town is changing more than ever and I’m somehow completely disconnected from it. I work on project after project that may have no lasting effect whatsoever on my community, who often times seems to see me only as a strange foreigner who might be able to get them some free stuff. And then I sit in a little grass hut in my village close the door and am completely alone with me myself and I.

Gross! Okay catharsis achieved, pity party over, melancholic state averted. In the words of Shakespeare, oh yeah I am that pretentious ;-), “Sweet are the uses of adversity” and that certainly holds true here. Such utter separation and isolation has the unique benefit of tying together those who suffer the same pains. Peace Corps relationships burn fast and bright. We come together forget our troubles put on music and just enjoy life. I think I’m better now than I used to be at recognizing those moments when I’m happy and just going with it. The big problems can never be solved in the present moment so if you find yourself being happy why ruin it by worrying about something. Time for me to go. Someone’s shaving their head and that is much more amusing than worrying about all this big crap.

Cheers,

Garrison

Development Work... Dun Dun DUUUUUHN

2011-05-02T11:31:00.000-07:00

There seems to come a point in every Peace Corps volunteer’s service (at least in Senegal that is) where they question whether or not we should be doing this at all. That’s rather vague isn’t it? Let me clarify. The “we” is westerners and the ‘this’ is development work in Africa. At first glance the answers seem so clear and usually include any number of complex arguments such as “Duh”, “Of course”, or “What are you racist or something”. Yes development work seems so simple and righteous; I’m here to tell you that it isn’t. Yes today is my day and I am quite disheartened.

I’ve been writing this post in my head for most of the day and I must say you are lucky to be reading this version. The previous ones, pondered in the heat of my frustration, weren’t exactly family friendly. In any case I’ve cooled down some so perhaps I can say a few intelligent things on the subject. Back story time! I’ve been working with a welder in Toubacouta to make very simple rope pumps for wells in my area. The design is wonderfully cheap, easily repairable, and efficient. I have so far installed one pump in my village and it works wonderfully. Long story short the pumps have promise. There is a women’s group with whom I work very closely and they were slated to get the next two pumps. They have two wells and 6 basins and the plan was to put one pump on each well to help fill the basins. These would only cover half of each well leaving the rest open for people to pull water with a bucket for watering close to the well or to fill the basins if the pump breaks down. The most important part of this plan though was that the women’s group would contribute roughly 30% to the total cost of the pump. This way they would take ownership of it and have more of an incentive to maintain it. So why all the was and were and would you may ask? Well unbeknownst to me some American study abroad students from Dakar took it upon themselves to “Help” the poor people of my area by raising money from the States to buy 4 pumps for the group along with about 50 watering cans and 4 extra basins with absolutely zero village contribution.

Where do I begin? First I take a breath because just reading that again makes my blood boil. So yes what’s the big deal? They’re helping people right? Africa is poor its great to come in and give it lots of stuff and money right? White people are angels and gods and lets all worship them because we could never do anything on our own? Ok that one went a little far, but you catch my drift. Here’s what upsets me about this situation and it isn’t that they stole my project, although they did. These kids come in and want to do something good and useful: that’s fine good for them, but they have absolutely no idea what they are doing and in the process are not only doing something that is utterly unnecessary and redundant, but they’re doing it in a way that is actually harmful to the overall development of the village. Yes that’s right, bad development work isn’t just annoying it’s harmful. Think about that next time your friend tries to convince you to write a check to some “wonderful” NGO.

Let me explain myself. These students are putting in two pumps per well making the pumps the only way that anyone can pull water. There will no longer be any room to pull water the traditional way with a rope and bucket. This means that should the pumps break down there is absolutely no way to water the fields. This could mean total crop failure and massive loss of income. Had the students taken the time to get to know the women’s group they would have learned that they are sponsored by PISA, an Italian development organization, and that PISA is planning on putting in two more wells and several other basins. With these students putting in basins as well this could at the very least muck up the organization of the site and at worst take away PISA’s justification to add more wells. The current two wells are old; I give them 5 years tops before they need massive repairs. Two extra wells would be far more valuable than just pimping out the current ones and adding extra basins.

I find myself now in a really odd position and I don’t like it. The right thing to do is to put on the breaks and at most install one pump per well and hold off completely on extra basins. This way PISA could come in and install their wells and basins and then we could install the remaining two pumps. This is the right thing to do but no one is going to want to do it, and if I push the issue I’m going to burn bridges. If I do nothing though and the pumps cause problems for the group then this threatens to poison the well, so to speak, for my very large project of 52 rope pumps that I am about to launch with another volunteer. Regardless of how these 4 pumps turn out it’s going to be very difficult for me to convince other groups to contribute to the cost of the pumps when these first ones were given as gifts.

Worry not there’s icing on this cake. These students want to start their own NGO in the states that installs rope pumps in Senegal. They have known about this technology for all of one day and they think they’re ready to take people’s money in the name of developing the poor villages of Senegal and facilitate installation through their friend while they sit comfortably in America. Hold on I need to go vomit. Ok I’m back. I probably sound pretty harsh right now but I just can’t stand this kind of development. Everyone wants to be a hero. Raising money for someone else’s organization lacks glory I suppose so people decide to go it alone when they are absolutely unqualified to do so. Where’s the plan for follow up to make sure the pumps are functioning and being used correctly, where’s the supplemental training to help increase agricultural production and teach IPM and pesticide safety (yes water pumps enable greater production which thereby encourages pesticide use and the people here have no idea how to apply them safely), where’s the selection system to make sure that pumps are getting to those who really need them and not just those who have friends in the right places, where’s the impact evaluation to ensure that the results of the pumps are recorded and available to the greater development community, and where’s the respect for the dignity of the Senegalese people who deserve more than gifts from guilt ridden upper middle class Americans who would rather write a check and feel like a hero then humbly work with someone to enable them to succeed on their own.

On the whole Americans have absolutely no idea how to do development work. We want quick fixes so we throw massive amounts of money and resources at problems, which only serves to create an atmosphere of dependence and subservience from third world countries. They deserve better. All the while we idolize those who give, knowing very little of whether or not their gifts are making any sort of a difference. Take Greg Mortenson for example. Building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan sounds wonderful and it has earned him millions of dollars and three Nobel Peace Prize nominations. Low and behold he’s one of the worst development workers in the world. He drops off schools with almost no knowledge of the local village dynamics and zero collaboration with local governments and is somehow surprised when the schools aren’t being used. The drop and go method of development looks great on paper. It enables NGO’s to up their numbers as quickly as possible, netting them massive donations, but lacks any long term impact. This isn’t just inefficient it’s immoral. Taking someone else’s hard earned money and wasting it while claiming moral superiority and near saintly status is incredibly wrong.

Quite a rant huh? My biggest fear though is that I’m not any different. Am I in this to truly help people or am I in it just to feel like a good person. Why me? There are Senegalese NGO’s that could probably do my job cheaper and more effectively and with more dignity for the villages they serve. So why me? Everyone wants their piece of the glory and I would be lying to say that I’m any different. I want to feel like I’m making a difference. I have to have faith though that my stay here is a net positive for the village. I try to be a catalyst for them to take action rather than just give them things. Maybe I’ll succeed and maybe I won’t. I honestly can’t say. What’s important I think though is to keep questioning. Development work is not as simple as it appears and as much as we would like to be heroes, doing so at the expense of true progress is selfish. There is too much work to do to waste time and money on heroics. Save it for the movies. Back to village for me…

Hut Tour

2011-04-21T12:58:00.000-07:00

Tax Season

2011-04-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

Well seeing as how this is tax season and that can be a bit stressful, I thought that I would take a few minutes to ease the pain and make parting ways with that hard earned cash a little easier. The US Government is indeed massive and truth be told there are all manner of things nasty and vile that it does with our tax money. This is not news though however much the national networks may like to spin it to the left or right. The propaganda can be enough to make you break out your NRA card and call up the old militia buddies for a nice tea party, or depending on your inclination brush up on your communist manifesto before a peace and freedom party rally against the evils of cutting down a single tree on public property. I don't care if you're a Democrat, Republican, Communist, or Fascist, the government will use your money for things that you don't like and that can indeed be a hard pill to swallow.

But just wait! I'm here to remind you that despite all the bickering and propaganda, your tax dollars also go to some pretty great things. Many Americans have never even heard of USAID but I see them all the time here and I am so incredibly proud every time I see their logo "USAID From the American People". They're in Senegal, they're in my local community, and they're funded by you.

I bet you didn't know that you built a fully equipped school with wifi and computers in a rural village outside Kaolack.

Or that now its being used to hold health training to stop the spread of HIV/AIDS in Senegal. And while that's all well and good your money is also going to support something even more amazing and innovative and quite good looking I might add....

Me! Peace Corps is a government agency and we only exist because of you all and your lovely lovely money. Seeing as how you're paying me let me justify my existence just a bit.

I am standing behind one of David Campbell's rope pumps and I'm about to install it in my village.

First things first I have to cast a half well cap in cement for the pump to sit on.

Almost done...

And there she is. The cement needs about a week before we can finish the install and then my village will have a lovely rope pump. Hmmm... one rope pump is nice... I guess.... but it doesn't really solve anything and certainly won't last forever.

Let me introduce Lamine Gin. He is a welder in Toubacouta who will be helping me to make a lot more rope pumps. 26 to be exact. My friend Marcie down in Kolda is also doing 26 pumps so together we will be doing a total of 52 pumps. We've partnered with Appropriate Projects, and NGO back in the states, to purchase all the pumps and install one every week for the next year. We officially kick off the project on May 1st Inshaallah. We'll be keeping a blog as we go, with entries every week about the villages and people benefiting from the pumps and how you can help! I'll post more on that as the date approaches.

We went to my neighboring village to check out some pumps that an NGO had brought in. They're good but they're really expensive and not made locally. Thus they are useful for a while but not sustainable.

This is Lamine with the beginnings of his pump. It will be much simpler and cheaper and a whole lot more sustainable since he will be around as a pump producer and technician long after I'm gone. This project "52 Pumps in 52 Weeks" will probably be one of the biggest of my service. I'm sure that it will cause me a lot of headaches but hopefully with enough Advil I'll make it through the year and then I'll have finally done something worthy of the insane things people say in regards to my good character and whatnot. Joining the Peace Corps is like getting a huge credit line increase on your strength of character. You can keep raking up the charges even if you ain't got the goods. Well time to dig my heals in and pay my debts. I suggest y'all do the same and get those taxes done so, you know, I don't starve over here or something. And also so that the US Government never has to consider cutting foreign aide for development even in this tough economy.

Cheers,
Garrison

Paradigm Shift

2011-03-28T04:12:00.000-07:00

Peace Corps Volunteers are strange. Let me elaborate. As you have no doubt heard we go to the ends of the earth to parasite and disease infested lands where we learn tribal languages and talk about bodily functions far too openly regardless of the circumstances, and constantly fantasize about all things food and drink related. But this isn’t why we’re strange. I could just as easily have been describing the peculiarities of fraternity life. No Peace Corps Volunteers are strange for an even more bizarre reason but I’ll get to that in a minute. First a story.

Once upon a time this bright young lad named Garrison went to study with the Nobel Peace Prize nominated Theatre visionary Augusto Boal. Garrison was intrigued by Boal’s techniques for using theatre for third world development work so he thought that, as a natural step after college, he might join the Peace Corps to give it a try. Now after several grant projects investigating Boal’s techniques and a show at the SF Fringe Festival in his style, Garrison felt fairly qualified to do this… Welcome to the Peace Corps Garrison. “Wow this is really going to happen,” he thought. You will be studying a minority language called Serere spoken only in rural villages in the delta region. “Okay this shouldn’t hinder me doing theatre locally right?” He hoped. We’re having a girls’ camp in the region and we would love to have some help doing skits “Fantastic let me talk to everyone putting this on and show them that theatre can be so much more than skits” He pleaded. Well there are too many people helping at the camp so how about you just work with the girls for an hour on the first day and then for an hour right before they present their skits on the last day. Oh yeah and you can’t lead the sessions in Serere. Does that sound good? Meanwhile the girls will be working every day for an hour and a half on their skits. “Well I guess I can do some games or something” he sighed. Perfect people love theatre games; they’re so fun and won’t get in the way and take time away from the important work.

… cringe…

I don’t really know what I expected. It’s hard enough getting theatre people to understand the benefits of Boal’s work let alone PCV’s with every background under the sun. I was still more than a little disappointed though when the planning meeting for the girl’s camp made it quite clear that my skills were neither wanted nor necessary. As strange as it sounds to me I don’t know that I will be doing any theatre whatsoever during my service in the Peace Corps.

So get to the point, why are PCV’s so strange? Hold up, more about me first. My service is shifting. I see now that the things that got me into the Peace Corps aren’t necessarily going to be the things that keep me here. My service is simply not lending itself to exploring Theatre for development work. I am overwhelmed by projects, all of which are too legitimately needed for me to justify taking away my attention to pursue something else out of personal curiosity. There is certainly a part of me that’s just avoiding the work because it’s hard. Excuses are wonderful express routes to the easy track. Even so I stand by the work that I am doing and I simply can’t justify going out of my way to pursue something else… even if it’s pure gold for grad school applications…

This is how we are weird. Not only are we in the most absurd situations, but every decision we make comes down to trying to get the most, not for ourselves but for someone else. Everything is about how much impact I can have on my village, how much I can increase their food security, how much I can help reduce the labor for the women’s group how much I can increase their overall level of sanitation etc… It’s quite a paradigm shift. Now let me stop you before you start thinking that we’re little altruistic angels, cause we’re not. This shift is a normal product of our situation. The Peace Corps yardstick by which we measure our self worth and success just happens to be based on how much we help other people. Different situation different yardstick. So don’t go comparing apples and oranges saying we’re so delicious and you’re so bitter, although we are rather delicious, but that a topic for another time. Still though it is a strange shift to have one’s sense of self worth so completely wrapped up in other people’s wellbeing and success. Maybe this is what it feels like to be a parent… or a grown up… or a human… or a walrus… I don’t know.

The point is things are shifting for me and it’s making me think about all those pesky big life questions. Should I pursue international development work after PC? Can I justify just becoming a professional actor? Where am I really going to be able to have an impact? Luckily I’m also reading the Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s series right now so I know not to take any of these questions too seriously. The Earth will probably end up blowing up regardless of what I think.

Living up to the title of this blog, this post took on some serious thoughts of one PCV in such a way that hopefully you walk away with only a slight feeling of discomfort, which will ultimately turn out to be completely unrelated and will go away shortly after a few more hours of digestion.

…see what I mean? Way too much Douglas Adams right now :-)

Cheers,

Garrison

P.S. In the spirit of non-bitterness here is the link to the girls’ leadership camp fundraising page. It is still going to be a really valuable experience for all involved, so do chip in if you have a few bucks to spare.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-163

Welcome to Peace Corps Senegal!

2011-03-04T10:24:00.000-08:00

This one's for you new stage. Welcome to the wonderful land we call Senegal. Before you get your hopes up too much let me give you some bad news: no zebras, no giraffes, no wildebeests, no cheetahs, no elephants. If you're in the delta region we have hyenas but you will never see them. If you're down in Kedougou apparently there are lions... but no one ever sees them either. But if you're in Kolda you might see a hippo. Yes you are going to Africa but it is not the Africa that most people think of. Welcome to Senegal's Africa

Here in Senegal you can buy the latest appliances from all over the world, including top of the line plasma flat screen televisions.

Can't live without the latest iPod or Macbook? Well you're in luck we've got um :-)

You've probably heard horror stories about eating bland meals of rice and fish for your entire service. Fear not, just pick up a box of name brand cereal at your local mega grocery store.

Ah yes but you're getting here right before the hot season so food isn't really the biggest part of your worries. When that mercury hits 120 degrees just swing by the American club for a dip in their fabulous pool.

As you can see we are also really up tight here and have zero fun whatsoever.

And we are always one hundred percent integrated. No afternoons of softball with pulled pork sandwiches, beer, and relaxing under a giant American Flag tent. Nope not for us Peace Corps Volunteers.

Is he serious you may ask? Well yes and no. Dakar will be Dakar but you've caught me being flippant, and while we can vacation to the land of the nice, the reality of life here, much like the latrine above, is a little shittier. I'm telling you this for two reasons. First to assuage your parents' and your fears that you may be going to an utterly desolate and poverty stricken third world country. We always have Dakar! And also to prepare you for the utter bizarreness of living in a country with such a disparity between the haves and the have-nots.

Senegal is poor don't get me wrong, but you are not going to a country where people die of starvation or where the population is devastated by AIDS. The majority of the country functions fairly well. Albeit usually without the most basic of amenities, but Dakar is a good sign. You probably won't agree when you get off the plane and drive through Rufisque to Thies, but things here are on the up and up and there is great potential for Senegal to break into a prosperous period of sustained economic growth. There are cell phone networks all over the country, internet cafes are numerous and reliable, roads are improving, electricity is spotty but expanding none the less, and most importantly more and more people are going to school meaning that Senegal's workforce will soon be able to tackle bigger and better things. This ain't the Peace Corps of the 70's so fear not parents or significant others, your PCV will not disappear off the face of the earth for two years.

I've only been in country for about 7 months but this arrival stuff is still fresh in my head so let me offer a few words of advice. Everyone's experience is different though so take this with a grain of salt. My first couple of weeks in country were really difficult. Read my first blog entries, they were down right neurotic. I missed home like crazy, felt like I would never be able to learn the language, was absolutely terrified of Thies and Dakar and just wanted to go home to my girlfriend. Top it all off with a feeling that everyone else was adjusting better than I was and I developed a wee bit of a sense of inadequacy. So first piece of advice: PST is hard so don't make it harder by being hard on yourself. Cut yourself some extra slack and realize that even if people keep it together on the outside, they all freak out at some point. Freaking out is beyond perfectly normal. Talk to your fellow PCT's if you're having a hard time with something, chances are they're going through it too. We're a family here, don't forget that. Second piece of advice: the language will come. Every single person in Peace Corps Senegal passes their language exam by the end of PST. Study but don't stress about it. Third piece of advice: Your CBT site family is not your family for the rest of your service. You are allowed to make mistakes with them. Most of them have had volunteers before and they have seen it all believe me. Go ahead and butcher their language, forget their names, hide in your room because you don't want to talk to them, cross some unspoken cultural boundary, do it all. This is the one time here where you truly get a free pass. You get to make the right first impression with your real family so don't worry about this one.

Now let's talk about something taboo... ETing (Early Terminating). Yes if things get too much you can call it quits at any time, pack up and go back to America. Three people did it in my stage during PST. Yes it is an option, but please don't do it. You may feel like you can't do this, that two years is just too much. I am here to tell you though that yes you can do it. I have never met you but I know that this is the truth. Peace Corps selected you so trust that you are qualified enough even when, inevitably, you feel like they made a mistake and that you are absolutely incompetent. You can do this! We are a family and we will support you through thick and thin. This is a two way street though and we need you. Many times current volunteers fill out requests to set up new sites so that they will have a Health or EE volunteer with whom to collaborate. I can't tell you how disappointed my sub region would be if our health volunteer never showed up. Magnify that by 10 and that's how the village will feel if they never get the volunteer they've prepared for. I don't mean to put extra pressure on y'all, but we need you. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to go home during PST, but I made a promise to myself that I would stick it out until I got to my real village and now here I am. PST life is NOT what your life is going to be like for the rest of your service.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and its not death, its a village with a family and an incredible two year adventure that will change you for the rest of your life. Welcome to Senegal my friends. You're going to do great!


The last day at my CBT site. You will make it there too!

P.S. I made the mistake of staying awake on the drive from the airport to Thies. It's really not worth it. There is just two much to process and it really isn't the most flattering view of Dakar. Trust me you are better off sleeping than trying to take it all in and inevitably freaking out. You'll see Dakar again soon don't worry.

WAIST - The West African Invitational Softball Tournament

2011-02-21T08:34:00.000-08:00

Check out the brand new collection of photos and videos at the right. They're from this last weekend where Garrison joined virtually every PCV in the region for some good fun, food and softball. I was on a business trip and was actually able to "drop in" for the weekend. This picture is of all the Kaolack region PCV's complete with their Tu Tu uniforms.

Bandwidth is precious in Senegal so Garrison asked me to post these for him.

Enjoy, Randy (Dad)

6 Months in Senegal!

2011-02-11T03:47:00.000-08:00

As hard as it is to believe today marks six months in country for me. I was planning to write this big profound wonderful thoughtful post to mark the occasion but I'm not exactly sure I have it in me. So instead I'm going to share a few things I've learned from my half year of life in Africa. Ideological purists with fantasies of the noble native lifestyle beware.

Firstly Peace Corps life is not as noble and profound as people think it is. For reals everyone stop telling me I'm doing amazing work and saving the world cause one of these days you're gonna find out its not true and I don't want to have to say I told you so. Initially things seemed this black and white though; I would join the Peace Corps and help people in need, but once I got past the initial shock and awe and novelty of living in Africa things got complicated. The profoundness of this experience is still here, but most of the time, at the village level anyways, things are a lot more gritty and frustrating. Development work is hard, harder than I ever imagined before getting here. The questions are so much more complicated and there are no simple answers. Before coming to Senegal I thought the simple solution was just to give more aid. These people are poor they need more money, more budgetary assistance for social programs, more cheap drugs, more schools, more wells, more hospitals, more more more. Hundreds of Billions of dollars have been spent on development projects throughout the world over the past 3 decades and yet we see very little meaningful change.

I feel like I'm ideologically off balance. I'm your quintessential California Liberal... and yet I'm starting to see that globalization with all its evil corporations and greedy CEO's is actually one of the only things that really helps developing countries sustain long term growth allowing them to break out of the poverty trap. I'm also finding myself much more skeptical of giving handouts. I refuse to do a project now if there is no village contribution. If people don't pay for what they get then they have no appreciation for it's value and just let it fall apart, because of course there will always be another aid organization waiting to give them something else. Life here is hard and these people have so much less opportunity, but even so Senegal is never going to succeed without its own citizens taking some initiative to improve their own lives instead of just asking for handouts. When I first got to country I thought the current volunteers were rather callous when they made fun of the kids who asked them for money. Now I do the same thing. Yes when I am in a particularly bad mood and small poor African children say "Donnez moi l'argent" or "Donnez moi cadeau" I say it right back to them and hold out my hand. I can't say that I am always proud of how I interact with people who ask me for things, but the lack of appreciation for what I'm trying to do and the utter sense of entitlement to being given things gets really old.

I almost wrote about this subject a few weeks ago after a particularly frustrating day but luckily I waited to cool off a bit. That day I was riding my bike down to Karang to pick up some packages from the post office and was braving the usual cat calls of "Toubab toubab toubab" and "Donnez moi l'argent" when things got seriously offensive. I rode past a group of teenagers and one gestured for me to go around them and when I did he hit me with a stick on my leg. No it was not a big stick but it was a huge insult and I was not about to take that. I slammed on my breaks, flipped my bike around and chased after him. He went off the road into his village so I yelled at his friends who turned out to be Serere. I told them to find his father and tell him what he did and have him beat him. If you would have told me six months ago that I would be encouraging corporal punishment I would never have believed you but things have changed. Did I think his father would really beat him, no. Did his father probably even find out, no. The point is I wanted them to know how offended I was and for them to know that what he did was really really not ok.

Like I said I'm ideologically off balance. On the one hand I can't blame the kid. If I saw white tourists and NGO workers constantly running around telling everyone what to do, acting utterly superior to them and carrying tons of money and technology without ever really sharing it, I might resent them too and try take them down in any way I could. Yes my wonderful liberal arts education has taught me that I cant judge him... but gosh darn it I'm judging him. All I want is to be respected for what I'm trying to do rather than being harassed constantly for being white. I can't even begin to pretend that I understand race in America, but this is certainly giving me an appreciation for what its like to be a minority. You can never be anonymous.

Alright enough of the bad hard things I've learned, time for some good stuff. Sure development is hard and there are lots of unmotivated people here but there are also some of the smartest, hardest working people I have ever met. Take Usmaan for example. Usmaan lives in my village for half the year and spends the other half working as a driver in Banjul. He has built himself about a 1/2 hectare garden plot with his own water pump and elevated tank. He told me the other day that he uses chemical fertilizer right now but in the future he only wants to use manure and compost because the fertilizer is bad for microbes in the soil. He actually said the word microbes. Then there's Lamine Demba who speaks 4 languages fluently and is working on English now. He's in his early twenties and works at a campament in Toubacouta and is absolutely going to make something of his life. Also I can't forget my neighbor Cail's host dad Ibu in Toubacouta who started his own campament and is now working with me to do an organic garden there. My favorite people in village though are the middle aged and older women. I guarantee you've never seen someone work so hard in your entire life. They are up in the morning pulling water, then making breakfast, then out in the fields watering the gardens, then back home cooking lunch, then back in the fields watering and weeding, then back home to cook dinner and then its time to sleep and do it all over again maybe next time with massive amounts of laundry too. Women here are amazing and I so so so admire them.

Let's see I've complained about what's hard here, I've said a few things that inspire me, now how about the things I've learned here that are just funny. For example I have learned that you can announce that you are leaving a room to squeeze puss out of your armpit without anyone thinking twice (that just happened). I've learned that diarrhea is only something to be worried about if it lasts more than a week. I've learned that you really only need about a half bucket of water to take a bath. I've learned that millet with moringa sauce is both scrumptious and nutritious. I’ve learned that it is possible to simply tie sheep and goats to the top of a car if you want to take them somewhere. I’ve learned that it is utterly absurd to travel anywhere without a completely full car. I’ve learned that you need to be careful when picking a taxi from Toubacouta to Sokone because you might inadvertently pick one that is smuggling sugar from the Gambia and then have to nervously stand there while they ditch it on the side of the road because they got a tip that the police are coming (yeah true story). I’ve learned that it’s perfectly acceptable to have discussions at length about whose baby is the ugliest. I’ve learned that America is my favorite place in the world (IT HAS EVERYTHING!) I’ve learned that it is perfectly acceptable to ride as a passenger on a moto with a baby loosely tied to your back by a towel while precariously balancing a bowl of millet on your head as the driver balances a sheep between his knees and talks on his cell phone. I’ve learned that mefloquine really does cause vivid dreams, memory loss, balance issues, and numbness in extremities, all of which I have experienced. I’ve learned that it is possible to video skype from a remote village in Africa. And finally I’ve learned that no matter how much I try to integrate and learn the language and contribute, I will still always be the strange American who they never really understand.

There we are. I guess I did have some things to say. 6 months down 21 to go. Bring it on Senegal!

Cheers,
Garrison

The Magical land of Kedougou

2011-02-10T13:40:00.000-08:00

This past week I traveled to Africa. Well I already live in Africa, but this was like "real" Africa with baboons, and warthogs, and jungle and waterfalls. Kedougou city is approximately 585 kilometers from my site. It took us two days to get there (we stopped off in Tambacounda to spend the night at the regional house there) and even with the cramped sept-place it was totally worth it. The Kedougou regional house for those of you who have never been there is much less like a house and more like a camp ground. It's made of lots of different huts rather than one big building. Its really pretty sweet. So why you may ask did I venture to this strange far away land? I came to learn how to move water. Not on the Moses scale but on a much more manageable from well to surface and from surface to plant kinda way. Yes this was a water pump formation (training for those who are frenchily challenged). We learned how to contstruct and install two different water pumps. First a rope pump that pulls water up from a well by using little plastic washers tied to a rope to pull water up a pcv pipe.

Yes that well cap will do just fine

And here is the pump in action. It gets great flow on shallow wells

The second pump is the Rocker Water Pump designed by the Full Belly Project. Check out their website, its a great organization. http://www.thefullbellyproject.org/

Here's the main mold. The hoses create the channels for water to travel to each piston and then to the outlet on the right.


Just add concrete and a little steel for reinforcement and pop it in the oven to bake for 48hrs.

So what do you do in Kedougou when you have to wait for concrete to dry for two days... Waterfall!!!

The hike through the jungle to get to the falls.

Waterfall!


Waterfall with friends!

Through the wondrous magic of my blog it's now 48hrs later and the concrete is ready!

Isn't she pretty :-). water comes in from that tube on the bottom of the picture and goes either left or right depending on which piston is down and then goes to the front chamber and out into the world to grow wonderful nutritious veggies.

Pistons, and rubber seals to prevent leakage and back-flow.

The finished product. You stand on the board and shift you weight back and forth and that works the pistons.

Thanks David Campbell for bringing these technologies to Senegal and for putting on this formation. Kaolack now has molds for the rocker pump and I cast one up myself two days ago. It's out of the molds and looking fabulous. I brought back a rope pump as well which I'm going to try to get copied by a metal worker in Toubacouta. Needless to say I'm really excited to start working on both these technologies. I contacted the Full Belly Project and they're going to send another set of molds for the Kolda region and then we should really be cookin. Speaking of cooking...


David Campbell's wood fire pizza oven.

David making pizza.

Yeah I am so making one of these in my back yard. This was our last night in Kedougou and it was a fabulous way to finish out our little trip down south. I have a feeling these technologies may become a big part of my service so be prepared for lots more on the rocker and rope pumps. Do check out the the Full Belly Project too they really are doing some amazing work. Also to the Chico State engineers without borders club (if you're reading that is) Peace Corps is a great organization to partner with to get experimental new technologies out into the field. I would love to test something new anyways. Just a thought.

Cheers
Garrison

Pictures! This time with fast internet :-)

2011-01-19T10:02:00.000-08:00

Me after digging my well

Aforementioned well

My garden space

Awesome terraces

Onions!

My host nephew?

My Malaria test. It was negative!

There have been a few new developments since my last post. Primarily that I have to change garden plots because my village failed to mention that my plot has salty soil so nothing will grow. I tasted the salt its there. I really wish they would have told me this before assigning me that plot. Such is life. Two weeks of hard work for some pretty pictures I suppose.

Weekend Update

2011-01-15T06:19:00.000-08:00

Hello all. Not the most interesting post I'm afraid, but I can't pass up the chance to take advantage of free internet to inform friends and family of all the thrilling details of my life! I know I know you've been holding your breath for the next post so here it is :-P

In my last post I boasted about how I really hit the ground running in 2011... now what is the next logical thing that can come from that sort of hubris? ROADBLOCKS! Yes things have slowed down considerably. My nursery bed was eaten by termites, my carrots didn't sprout, my mint cuttings died, and double digging all those terraces is slow and HARD. These things are minor hiccups though compared to my current roadblock. I've been at the Kaolack regional house for 4 days trying to get over what I have now come to believe is both a cold and an intestinal bug. PCV life is so so glamorous. There are times when you want to get out of village for a few days, but this is far from the restful vacation I was looking for. I'm being good though and am actually allowing myself to stay here instead of forcing myself back to village and work. Village guilt is a powerful powerful thing, especially when your host mother is watering your garden while your gone. Those who know me well know that I'm not good at taking time for myself. I'm much better at working. Perhaps it's my Catholic roots creeping in to give me this absurd guilt but it's hard to shake. In reality my sudden jump into massive amounts of work is probably why I’m sick right now. Work out in the village is a little hard on the body when you’re eating primarily carbohydrates. It’s going to be fun going to Dakar in February and hopping on a scale for the first time in country… I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight. Anyways I’m rambling. Also its not my intention to guilt family into more care packages, not that I don’t want them, the juries just still out on whether the 6 in the mail will ever get here. I would keep writing but the only things I have to talk about aren’t really easy to stomach, unless you’re a PCV that is. Poop talk is dinner conversation here. Also I have to get back to watching 30 Rock and then Godfather II :-) Things aren’t so bad I guess. Here’s some pictures of my exploits from New Years through now. Enjoy!


The Last Sunset of 2010

And apparently that's all the internet will let me upload at the moment. Such is life in Africa.

Cheers,
Garrison

Accomplishmets for 2011

2011-01-02T14:41:00.000-08:00

I am still a PCV. Anyone who is in the Peace Corps will know that this is indeed an accomplishment.
I ate my final Cliff Bar. I’m still amazed that it lasted until 2011.
I finished making my diversion swail in my garden. (Basically a ditch that follows the contour of the land to help prevent erosion during the rainy season and direct water to my hypothetical, but soon to be real, banana tree.
I made a pepiniere of bell peppers, three kinds of tomatoes, and cabbage.
I planted lettuce and carrots in my double dug bed.
I dug a well all by myself :-) (ok ok it’s not that impressive since the water table is only about 6 feet down. But when was the last time you dug a 7 foot deep hole about a meter in diameter in a day and a half?)

That is all. Just wanted to let you know that I hit the ground running in 2011… and brag about digging a well. I’m pretty pleased with myself. As are the other villagers who seem flabbergasted that I can actually work. I feel like a real PCV now :-P. Happy New Year!

Cheers,

Garrison

Help put on the Kaolack Girls Leadership Camp!

2010-12-28T05:47:00.000-08:00

Hey everyone. So here's the deal. Kaolack is putting on a girls leadership camp this year and we need your help to fund it! I will be bringing two girls from my village, and Insha Allah will be doing Theatre of the Oppressed work with the girls at the camp. This is a really great opportunity to motivate them to see their full potential and stay in school rather than just marrying early and popping out kids for the rest of their lives. If you're interested in contributing here's the link. It has much more information put together in an immensely more eloquent way than I just did, so check it out.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-163

Every little bit helps so pass it on to all who may be interested. Thanks!

Cheers,
Garrison

Christmas in Popenguine

2010-12-27T16:20:00.000-08:00

December = Fail… for blog posting anyways, for everything else it’s been pretty good. I believe I left off last time telling y’alls about IST and trying to get in the holiday spirit. Well that was ok I suppose. On both accounts I didn’t quite get what I wanted. IST was a bit lacking in useful information and my holiday endeavors were a bit lacking in… well a country that gets excited with me about Christmas. Even so, Christmas was still pretty awesome thanks to the five wonderful people I got to spend it with, the three amazing meals we ate, and the single best beach house I have ever stayed in… for the sake of full disclosure I haven’t stayed in all that many beach houses, but regardless it was still awesome! Take a journey with me through images and poetry.

T’was the night before Christmas (in Popenguine) when all through the (beach) house

not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse (except for Daisy preparing a Mexican feast of epic proportions and deliciousness. I mean serious deliciousness).

The stockings were hung by the chimney (wooden giraffe) with care

in the hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there (We weren’t taking any chances, hence the biskrem, powdered milk, carrot and letter).

The children were nestled all snug in their beds (watching love actually), while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads (possibly induced by the fine locally produced liquors we picked up in Warrang earlier that day: Bissap liquor and chocolate, coffee, banana liquor.) And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap (…yeah I got nothin) When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter (the movie ended and we realized we had only 10min to get to midnight mass!). Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash (Go go go get to mass!). The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below (Actually there was a good amount of moonlight) When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer (or in our case a church with two firmly locked doors and a previously unnoticed calendar stating that midnight mass starts at 10…)

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St Nick (What the heck, we may have missed mass but its three minutes past 12 which means its CHRISTMAS!) "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Okay I may have stretched the limits of our Christmas’s relation to this poem, but I thought it might be fun :-). Christmas morning rolled around and we woke up to a truly magnificent sight. No not the beach, not the house, not the presents, or the stockings, something much more magical and amazing. The biskrem was gone, the glass of milk was empty and the carrot was considerably nibbled. I asked around and none of us did it, so take that you non-believers Santa visited Senegal! After thoroughly enjoying our nostalgic Santa excitement we got down to eating our second magnificent meal. This was a delicious strata courtesy of Kelsey.

We enjoyed this meal with a lovely woman from Saint Louis whose mother had actually been a Peace Corps Volunteer in Popenguine in the 80’s. It’s a small world and we really are one big interconnected family. Full and happy we next proceeded to mass, take two. This time the doors were not locked and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. There’s nothing quite like mass with a 40 or so person Senegalese choir with traditional drums. Pretty amazing. Some of our group got their religion fix that day; I got my choral music fix. Now what would be next on a PCV’s agenda after church? Well food of course! That seems to actually be the answer to what’s next whenever PCV’s are together. Cooking good food really is the main event for every gathering here and for our brunch Kelsey provided some amazing homemade cinnamon rolls. We enjoyed these while opening our secret Santa presents. My midday consisted of reading, sleeping, and Home Alone II. Oh yeah it was that good. I couldn’t rest forever though because I had to prepare our third amazing meal.

Two roasted chickens in a lemon butter cream sauce, with julienned carrots, and pesto pasta. I told you, we really like eating.

After dinner we made a nice bonfire on the beach and made smores and attempted to light off some fireworks. I say attempted because we ran into a little problem… the beach in Popenguine erodes away quite a bit every winter and makes the waves rather, big. I guess we didn’t realize that the tide was coming in so it was quite a surprise when in the midst of lighting two fireworks a wave washed up and put out our fire and knocked over the fireworks. Don’t worry the fuses had already been lit so they still went off… on the ground… pointed at us… It was a massively good time. The rest of the fireworks were ruined however, but we had a good time anyways trying to light them and occasionally getting one to launch a few feet. We finished out the night with a classic, “It’s a Wonderful Life”. We weren’t able to finish it because we were falling asleep, but it was still nice. Right before I went to bed I skyped with my family and Hannah. I must say this was really strange. It was Christmas as usual at Grandma and Grandpa’s and with everyone on the phone I could picture it so clearly. I felt pretty lonely hanging up the phone and being back in Senegal. Apart from that very reasonable moment of homesickness though, it was a wonderful weekend, and I can’t imagine having spent it with any other group of people. Thanks to Amy, April, Daisy, Kelsey, and Clint! Merry Christmas everyone!

Let it snow let it snow let it snow!

2010-12-07T00:08:00.000-08:00

Oh the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we’ve no place to go

Let it snow let is snow let it snow

Translation: It’s really really hot outside and everyone is burning garbage but since I’m stuck in Senegal I may as well get into the Christmas spirit! It’s really more of an emotional translation than a literal one.

Yes the Christmas Season is upon us. The streets of Senegal are filled with cheer as everyone begins their shopping and starts putting up lights. The traditional Mango tree in the center of town is filled with ornaments and the Talibe are being extra nice so that Santa won’t give them coal. Also far from the usual fare of rice with fish, the training center is now bursting with the smells of fresh baked cookies, apple cider, and scrumptious honey baked ham… Hmmm now which part of this fantasy is the least likely to be true? Eating pork in a Muslim country, or the Talibe being nice so that they WONT get coal? I’ll let you be the judge.

Yes I’m a little Christmas crazy right now, but when you’re thousands of miles from home in a third world Muslim country it’s either let Christmas uneventfully pass you by, or grab your Santa Hat and paper snow flakes and make it happen yourself. I was very well educated in the lore of Santa Claus as a child and I don’t remember anyone saying that he skips over Africa so look out everyone I’m rollin out the red and green carpet pour le Pere Noel.

Luckily I am here at the training center where my Christmas activities won’t be so strange. I’m not sure how my family in the village would react to me putting ornaments on a Baobab tree. So here’s the plan. Firstly decorate the training center with an absurd amount of everything Christmas: lights, trees, snowflakes, etc. Step two watch every Christmas movie known to man. Step three, sing carols, buy presents, and generally prepare for Christmas. Step four celebrate Christmas with my best friends in country and eat copious amounts of baked goods.

Surely I am somewhat in denial that Christmas isn’t quite going to be like it is back home in the states, but I’m going to try god damn it! In all honesty this is pretty strange. I’ve never spent Christmas away from home, but hopefully it will turn out all right. To everyone back home, enjoy the holidays and cherish your chance to be with family and friends. I would trade every present just to be there with mine. Speaking of presents… Don’t send me any! It’s really expensive and consumerism is so America’s thing. I am like soooo much better than that now (can you hear the sarcasm?). But seriously it’s expensive and there are more important things than stuff. If you feel so inclined to get me a present, do this instead: go to www.kiva.org and make a $25 loan to someone in the developing world (preferably in Senegal). Don’t send me a kiva gift certificate, loan for yourself. After Peace Corps I will most likely be a poor starving actor and I’ll just end up withdrawing the money as I need it. If you make the loan, having fancy non-arts jobs and what not, you will probably be able to keep reloaning that $25 dollars and it will thus do much more good. Who knows you may even come to like helping third world development and loan even more. I’m just trying to save the world here. Actually this is an entirely selfish venture to make Santa think I’m super good so I’ll get more presents. I hope he doesn’t read blogs. Fingers crossed ;-).

Happy Holidays Everyone! And Happy Hanukkah to all of my Jewish friends celebrating right now.

Garrison

Mental Health Update

2010-11-30T15:06:00.001-08:00

Well I'm a little over 6 weeks into my service now and I thought I should give y'all, and myself really, a little evaluation of my metal health. Don't worry it won't be as boring as it sounds. I'm at the training center in Thies again after just 6 weeks at site and it really is kind of surreal. The shift from PCT to PCV is huge mentally and being back here is showing me how much happier I am now than I ever was during PST. Looking back at journal entries and blog posts from those first few months its a little embarrassing how much I was freaking out. For example when I first got here I was absolutely terrified of leaving the training center to walk around Thies, and now that just seems absurd. Initially I was willing to get ripped off rather than actually try to bargain because bargaining was uncomfortable. Yeah now not so much. In fact now I will argue at length in order to get the price down by just a couple hundred CFA, less than 50 cents. Also I used to just smile when kids called me Toubab or asked me for money. Now I tell them they’re rude and ask them for money. The list goes on and on.

I think the big difference now is that I’m past the giant wall of swearing in and I can actually see what my life is really going to be like. I have to say starting to plan projects does wonders for increasing one’s perception of self-efficacy. The little things help too, like not having to live out of a suitcase or being able to cook food for myself if I’m tired of rice and fish. Those who know me well know that I’m a bit of an old man sometimes, so it’s also been nice not being around so many people and being able to go to sleep when I want. You may think that’s lame, I think it’s amazing. My hut has become my little cave of restful solitude and I already miss it.

Don’t get me wrong things are definitely challenging, but now they’re challenging with a somewhat visible purpose to life which helps make things more bearable. Other things are just purely frustrating though like having the Alhum driver blatantly overcharge you by 500CFA. I knew the appropriate fare and I knew he was ripping me off so I told him so, and then proceeded to argue for a while until I got frustrated and may have insinuated that he was being racist. There was also the time over thanksgiving where a cola nut seller grabbed my broom, I had just bought a broom, and wouldn’t let go unless I bought 2 kilos. Yeah I started in French then switched to Seereer and then finished in English because neither of those previous languages got my point across. It was pretty funny though because when I switched to English he started copying everything I said. I made him say some pretty unfriendly things about himself. Ok so maybe my mental health isn’t 100% perfect but the more comfortable I get here the more I can’t stand people being disrespectful to me. I personally think that making the cola nut man say he was an ugly rude disrespectful stupid man was good for my mental health. I also like my new tactic for dealing with people who call me Toubab. I turn around and call them African. I did this to a group of Moto drivers in Kaolack and they loved it. This is something I never would have imagined doing when I first got to country. I’ve grown so much :-).

It really does make me happy though looking at how comfortable I’ve become. It feels cool to be totally fine with walking around a crazy third world city and crack jokes in the local language. That’s freakin cool! How many Americans in the entire world do that? Not many and call be arrogant but I’m pretty proud of that. I’ve certainly come a long way from that first week of wanting to get right back on the plane. I have a long ways to go for sure, but right now as I take stock on how far I’ve come, I think I’ve done alright. Those are my musings for the night. Stay tuned for pictures of Thanksgiving, All Vol, and IST.

Cheers,

Garrison

Laughter and Grief

2010-11-24T11:37:00.000-08:00

If you really want to know a culture look at two things, how they laugh and how they grieve. The laughter will show you their joy and the beauty of their humanity, and the grief will show you how much they really value that joy as the gaping hole that is the absence of a human life throws into sharp relief what has been lost. The Senegalese laugh hard. They are always smiling and seemingly ever ready to take joy from the world around them. A world which in all honesty often gives them little to be joyful about. This absolute love of life means that the Senegalese grieve hard as well. Loss of life is absolutely devastating to them and they grieve it like nothing I've ever seen. The men sit quietly weeping while the women wail. I've experienced few things in my short life as primal as the Senegalese funeral of a young man killed in a car accident that I went to this past week. And that's all I have to say about that.

Tabaski, Abraham and God

2010-11-19T09:37:00.001-08:00

Bon Tabaski! For those of you who may be a little out of the loop, Tabaski was Nov. 17^th and I gotta say it was quite a good day; from the perspective of me as a human that is. From the perspective of a sheep it was a very very baaaaaad day. Sorry I had to. For those of you still out of the loop Tabaski is the celebration of God providing a Ram to be sacrificed so that Abraham didn’t have to murder his son. There are more euphemistic ways to say that, but why ruin the vivid imagery. Christianity and Judaism have this same story of Abraham and Isaac but in Islam it’s an especially big holiday. Every family buys a Ram or two or three, depending on finances, and has a truly grand old feast. For weeks leading up to today you would be hard pressed to find a single car traveling in Senegal that didn’t have at least one sheep strapped to the roof. Like I said bad day to be a sheep. My Tabaski though was awesome. I’m still stuffed. It started out with a trip to the mosque in the morning for prayer and ritual. I don’t really know what was said, but it was nice. At the end of the prayers everyone got up and shook each others hands while asking for forgiveness for anything they may have done to the other person. I really liked this part. We need more things like this in the states. After the mosque we went into the town and started killin some sheep. The Imam killed the first two and then everyone proceeded to their respective houses to kill the rest. I personally watched 7 sheep die today. It wasn’t pretty. Anyone who eats meat though, I suggest that you watch an animal be slaughtered at least once so that you can be an informed meat eater. Too many people are in denial about where their meat comes from. Let me fill you in. It comes from cute animals with soft petable fur and adorable faces who have mothers. There you go. Now accept that and keep eating. I did. The food was truly delicious and my family even invented a new way to torture me with it. They call it “Advance”. This lovely bit of maniacal generosity involves feeding me and a few other people our own bowl first since there are lots of people and they want to make sure we get enough. Of course when the second round of food comes no one knows that I have already eaten, so they still force massive amounts down my throat. Maniacal generosity indeed. After lunch we sat around and chatted, drank tea, met relatives who came in from out of town, and generally basked in the glory of the day. Twas a truly good day. Summary over.

I should probably leave it there but I’m going to do the stupid thing and add in personal commentary on the subject of religion. I know I’m stupid for doing this, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. Disclaimer: this is a commentary on the story of Abraham and Isaac, which belongs to Christianity, Islam, and Judaism, and thus I am not commenting on any specific faith, just faith in general. Ok bases covered, here we go. I do not like the story of Abraham and Isaac one bit. It strikes me as an example of both man and God at their absolute worst. What is there to celebrate about this story? Should we be celebrating that a man was so devoted to God that he was willing to murder his own son? Or maybe we’re celebrating that God was merciful and saved his disciple… from a problem that he himself created. This story is down right scary. I’m not naive I understand what is being celebrated: God rewarding devotion. I understand it perfectly well, I just think that it’s completely wrong.

Devotion in and of itself is not bad. Deference to something greater than oneself is beautiful and can lead to great things like humility and selflessness. It seems logical though that one should reserve such reverence and devotion for something that truly deserves it. Say God for example. People generally accept that God is worthy of devotion. People have said of God that he is perfect goodness and love. Well now that does sound pretty nice. If God is perfectly good and people out of their own free will decide to worship him because of this, well that’s all well and good. The problem comes with this story of Abraham and Isaac where God decides to test that devotion. God commands Abraham to take his only son to the top of a mountain and offer him up as a sacrifice. Abraham, my dearest most faithful disciple, murder something you love for me. Murder your own flesh and blood. In my name, the name of perfect goodness and love, do something of unspeakable evil. Do you see what I’m getting at? Any God that requires and tests devotion is inherently unworthy of having it in the first place. Its petty and childish and exactly the kind of behavior that would get you a time out in kindergarten. In one of my favorite plays “The Last Days of Judas Iscariot” (Great job Chico State Theatre Dept!) one of the characters asks if God’s love is conditional, “because if it is then that love is rendered utterly false”. If God loves unconditionally then there is no reason to require or test devotion. Some might say that God was teaching, showing the world that complete devotion leads to great rewards. This may be so, but murder is a rather despicable way to teach a lesson. Perhaps the ends justify the means. That too has been said before. Yes in fact, right before some of the worst atrocities in history. God cannot be an ends justify the means kinda guy. If he is then he isn’t perfect goodness and love, he’s just someone with a lot of power and that is something to which no one should be devoted. Am I saying no one should be devoted to God, no of course not. It is neither my place nor my desire to do so. I’m simply saying that in my opinion both Abraham and God made some big mistakes here, and I hope they’ve learned from them. Maybe that’s the true lesson here.

Having a Good Day in Senegal

2010-11-16T01:10:00.000-08:00

Hannah had a bit of a hard day yesterday (She got stuck behind a pretty brutal car accident for 2 hours) so she told me to have a good day for her. Here are my subsequent texts in response to that challenge. Its just too good not to post :-).

#1 Commencing good day. Step one wake up. Check. Step two listen to Mika (Blue Eye's-Touches You). Check!

#2 Step three drive to the end of the peninsula to catch a car before it fills up and see the ocean on both sides of me separated by only 50 meters. Check!

#3 Step four wait for an hour in Mbour for a car and then barely get a place (middle in th back) probably just because you're white. Check and win!

#4 Step five get out of the car while they strap baggage onto the top and run into 4 of your friends catching another car after their language seminar. Check!

#5 Step six listen to Mika again in the car followed by a bunch of classical music for the play I'm writing in my head. Check.

#6 Step seven get lost in Kaolack at night, find the regional house, cook some spaghetti, and eat someone elses cake while losing miserably at scrabble... Check!

Step eight involves a phone call to the aforementioned girl but that's far too cutesy and gross to post in a blog. So why am I posting this random sequence of texts. Well this day could have been really bad. For all intensive purposes it wasn't a particularly great day: it was long, and stressful and tiring. But because I had the mindset that it was going to be good and had to be good no matter what, all of that stuff just became amusing. We can't control the world around us, but we can choose how we react to it. I'm no Zen master and on other days I will not be so level headed, but its nice to remember that sometimes you can just choose to have a good day regardless of what actually happens. There's my wisdom for the day. Now everyone go have a good day for me :-)

Cheers,
Garrison

My Theatre Company

2010-11-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

Fair warning this post has absolutely nothing to do with Senegal. Ok now that that’s out of the way let’s talk about theatre. One of my biggest concerns with joining the Peace Corps was how taking a two-year break from theatre would affect my career. I’ve been keeping track of my friends and their professional progress over the past few months and a few days ago I randomly got really jealous. In the throws of this mysterious bout of jealousy I voiced my career concerns on facebook. That’s a bit of a euphemism. I actually posted a pessimistic status update saying, “I wonder how far behind I’ll be after 2 years in the Peace Corps”. My friends rightfully shot down this unwarranted pessimism and reminded me that I’m right where I need to be. I couldn’t agree more. That being said though I want to share my aspirations here so that, if nothing else, I can put them out of my head and focus on the task at hand. Here we go:

Most of my theatre friends know that my overall goal is to start a theatre company of my own. Few people though actually know the extent of my goals… they’re a little ambitious. Looking at the theatre world today I see the best, most creative, and most valuable work coming not from Broadway or LA, but rather professional regional theatres around the country. One of the best examples of this is the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland Oregon. This complex of three theatres offers a diverse season of professional shows in repertory so that on any given weekend you could see 5 different shows in one place for very reasonable prices. This ability to see so much high caliber theatre in one place has made Ashland a tourist destination and as a result the town is flourishing. America doesn’t need another actor trying to make it on Broadway or in LA, god knows there are too many already, but it does need more professional regional theatres, and that is what I am setting out to do.

This is going to sound arrogant I know, but I don’t just want to make another professional regional theatre, I want to redefine altogether what regional theatre can be and its purpose and value in America. I told you it was going to sound arrogant, but stay with me. I am envisioning a theatre company that is completely unified with and nourishes its community artistically, culturally, financially, educationally, environmentally, and physically. Let’s break that down:

Artistically: First and foremost this company needs to offer the highest caliber theatre possible. It would produce a variety of works both classic and contemporary in repertory and would support the production of new plays through workshops and full fledged premiere productions. This would ensure that even though the company is regional it would still be relevant to the rest of the theatre world and contribute to its evolution.
Culturally: This company would truly be a part of its community with dedicated social areas such as a restaurant/ jazz lounge, coffee shop, book store, and beautiful outdoor areas. It would be an open space for the community to gather regardless of that particular evening’s theatrical offerings. Beyond simply a place to gather it would also be a place to investigate local issues by offering workshops in social community based theatre as a means to open forums of discussion on relevant issues in the community.
Financially: Too often theatres take from their communities financially through constant calls for donations. This company would support its community financially by bringing in tourism and boosting the local economy.
Educationally: This company would offer extensive educational outreach programs such as youth theatre classes, free performances for local school children, small scale tours of performers to surrounding areas, and performance opportunities when available for local children and young adults.
Environmentally: Every theatre built by this company would be certified LEED Platinum and every show would strive to eliminate waste in all aspects of production. For some reason the theatre world sees it fit to investigate the worlds problems and claim high moral authority while taking more than its fair share of world resources. It is far from convenient or cheap to make sure that sets are recyclable and energy use is minimal, but we cannot pretend to be exempt from our obligation to reduce our carbon footprint just because we’re making “art”.
Physically: This company would literally feed the surrounding community through the implementation of a substantial organic rooftop farm. This might sound indulgent and in no way theatrical, but what better way is there to connect with a community than to feed it? The United States is arguably the most prosperous nation in the world, and yet there are people who cannot afford to provide proper nutrition to their families. Beyond just this there is a crisis in America of centralized food markets that require unsustainable amounts of energy to produce and transport food. America needs more locally produced organic food in order to feed future generations in a sustainable way. Food from this farm would be provided free of charge to local schools and low-income families, and of course to the restaurant/ jazz bar.

This is not the model of traditional professional theatre and it will not be as profitable, but there is just something fundamentally right about theatre feeding its community so completely. It harkens back to the reason that theatre exists in the first place, to bring communities together to try to understand the world just a little better. The traditional model of professional theatre may investigate the world, but it doesn’t bring a community together. I feel like I don’t deserve to make theatre if the only point is to make theatre. There has to be something more, and this feels like something valuable.

Like I said I’m a little ambitious, but here’s the real kicker. I need probably between 20 and 40 MILLION dollars to build this complex of theatres. So if you know any billionaires who are loose with their money, forward them this post ;-). I don’t mean to be flippant. In all seriousness I have a lot of work to do before I can even think about building a theatre. Firstly I need to learn how to make some seriously good theatre and that probably means grad school. All of this is for not if the theatre sucks. I also need to find the right town to do it in and gather some pretty talented and dedicated technicians, designers, business people, actors, directors, stage managers and friends. I think maybe I’m a little selfish with this project, because I want it all. I want to be able to do professional theatre while living in one place and having a family, I want to be able to feel like I’m contributing to my community, and most of all I want to hang out with my friends. Why do theatre with strangers when I can do it with my favorite people in the world? Just sayin. Steppenwolf did it, why can’t we? Ok there are a million reasons why we cant, and maybe its impossible, but what good ever came from only doing things that are possible. People said that it was impossible to dig Africa out of poverty but here we are. Huh. I guess this post is about Senegal too. I honestly have no idea how this is going to happen, but its something that I can see dedicating my life to create. I think it’s worth it. There we go Universe, I put it out there, now mull it over for a few years and I’ll get back to you when I’m done here. See you then!

Cheers,

Garrison

P.S. Theatre 150X kids so at the end of the semester you’ll have a project where you have to write a manifesto of what you think theatre should be… take it seriously, you may try to make it happen for real some day.

Even the Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

2010-10-25T12:03:00.000-07:00

Well as of 11:00am Friday October 15^th I am now officially a 100% bona fide Peace Corps Volunteer! But hold on there are a few stories to tell before we get to that point. I titled this post “Even the Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men” because things have been a little interesting lately. After beach weekend we all went back to village for one final week. This was relatively uneventful, we had language class, went to the boutique to chat, went to the fields etc. The big event for the week was the party Lauren and I were planning for our final night. I was planning to buy three chickens and Lauren was going to buy potatoes and veggies and we were going to have a feast. I say were because it didn’t happen. Firstly the village of Ngoudiane mysteriously ran out of chickens… like completely… that one threw me for a bit of a loop. Then my LCF came to my house and told me that one of the elders in his host family had died so a big party wasn’t appropriate anyways. That next day instead of preparing a feast I went to my first Muslim funeral, which consisted of a lot of sitting as they prepared the body, and then some praying at the mosque, which I was graciously allowed to participate in, and finally taking the body to the cemetery. In many ways it was very similar to funerals in the states with the one exception of there being absolutely no women present. I’m not going to go into that too much this early in my service. I’m still at the stage where I need to observe rather than judge; I’m not ready to open up that can of worms. So yes I’ll leave it at that for now. After the funeral the general consensus in village was that I did a very good thing by coming. People knew that I didn’t know the person but they appreciated the gesture. Instead of a feast I ended up buying my family some soda and we shared that while listening to American music and dancing. It was a pretty good time after all.

After we got back to Thies we only had a few days until swear in and they flew by. Firstly I found out the results of my technical and language proficiency exams. For tech I got nearly 100% and for language I got Advanced Low! To put that in perspective Peace Corps only expects us to be Intermediate Mid by the end of PST. Needless to say I was pretty pleased. My big task for this time was writing a speech in Seereer for swear in. That was nerve racking since it was going to be broadcast on Senegalese national television, but everything worked out in the end. Well everything except my outfit. Thing that went wrong number 2: so everyone for swearing in is encouraged to wear traditional Senegalese clothing. I had thus gone to a tailor to have some clothes made the week before. When I went to pick them up however… well lets just say I don’t think I have ever seen such a large V-Neck in my life. I had shown the tailor a picture of a collar with a slight dip in it and he took that to mean lets give this toubab a booboo that really lets him rock the chest hair. No worries I just wore a white t-shirt under it. It wasn’t the most stylish thing to do, but at least I was presentable for the US Ambassador and Senegalese Government Officials.

Now the main event: swearing in. The ceremony took place at the US Ambassador’s house, which is both ginormous and beautiful, and was really quite nice. Its amazing how normal multilingualness has become to me. All told there were 6 languages spoken during the ceremony. The intro was in French, occasionally someone would address us in English, occasionally someone would talk in Wolof , and there were speeches by new PCV’s in Pular, Wolof, Mandinka, and yours truly in Seereer. Everyone said my speech went really well which was nice. One of the coolest parts of the ceremony was having the Ambassador issue us the oath of service. It was very official and even included us swearing to “protect the constitution of the United States against all enemies both foreign and domestic”. So watch out all you constitution haters I got my eye on you! All jokes aside it was actually a very proud and surprisingly patriotic moment. It certainly makes me take this commitment a little more seriously. I’ve been thinking a lot about politics lately with the election coming up. I am proud to say that I did my civic duty and voted abroad. Even so it feels strange to not be up to date on the issues. My brother is going to John Stewart’s rally in DC and I am more than a little bit jealous, which is weird because I’m sure that I’m doing more good serving in the Peace Corps than participating in the craziness of American Politics, but still it feels like I’m out of the loop. But I digress, I still have more to tell you about the ceremony… well not the ceremony per se, but something equally important: THE RECEPTION! We walked out into the back yard to the beautiful site of bowls full of sliders and chicken, and caviar, and shrimp, and pizza, and brownies, and apple tarts, and lemon tarts, and… sorry I had to take a break to wipe the drool off my face. All in all it kind of felt like being fed our final meal before execution. It was really pretty amazing. It was also really cool to talk to the Ambassador and get a few pictures with her.

Thing that went wrong number 3: So everyone in Africa loves Obama. No really they absolutely love him. You’re confused, its ok, let’s clarify. So how much does Senegal love Obama? So much that they sell Obama underwear and boxers! This is immensely amusing to me and I will be buying a pair very very soon. Now this in and of itself is not TTWWN3 (Thing that went wrong number 3, its PC of course I used an acronym). TTWWN3 was bringing this up in the course of a conversation about Obama with the US Ambassador… Yeah that probably wasn’t the best idea. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but who really wants to make a faux pas with the US Ambassador to Senegal. Lesson learned. Check.

There were definitely some things that went right these past few days, like going to Massa Massa for our last meal in Thies. Massa Massa is a real restaurant, and while that may not sound so amazing, it is quite rare here. The cuisine is a mix between French, Italian, and Belgium and is absolutely delicious. I had a wonderful lasagna with a few glasses of wine for 7mil, which is only about $14. Oh yeah you know you want to visit. Very soon though that is going to feel expensive once I’m subsisting on a village living allowance. In the mean time though it’s delicious, and I definitely want to go back to try the Lapin du Mon Grande Mere (Rabbit of my Grand Mother).

This is Senegal so things can’t go right for too long. TTWWN4: Everyone going to the Kaolack region was told to be ready to depart at 2:30 on Saturday the 16^th. We all scrambled to get packed in time and then proceeded to wait for another 2 hours for the driver to get to the center. It turns out they thought that we were leaving on the 17^th. We were also supposed to have 2 busses for all of our luggage and only one driver showed up. As any good group of PCV’s should we went with the flow and crammed the last two seats of the bus from floor to ceiling and made it work. It was actually all pretty funny and illustrated the need to be flexible in the Peace Corps. I actually started writing this blog post on that bus ride which brings me to a side point: TED Talks! I listened to two great ones. The first provided a very optimistic look at third world development and our prospects for a world without poverty. Here’s the info TEDTalks : New insights on poverty and life around the world - Hans Rosling (2007) (video)

http://www.ted.com/talks/podtv/id/140

The second looked at what actually motivates people and produces innovative solutions in the workplace. The answer may surprise you. It didn’t surprise me; this has been my dad’s business philosophy for as long as I can remember. Its great to see it affirmed in such a cool way though. TEDTalks : Dan Pink on the surprising science of motivation - Dan Pink (2009) (video)

http://www.ted.com/talks/podtv/id/618

Both these talks couldn’t have been more perfect for me to hear right at the beginning of my service. They show firstly that what I’m doing is valuable and has the potential to help at a critical time in third world development, and secondly that I’m part of an organization with a management philosophy that can actually produce results. Side note done, back to Senegal.

Once in Kaolack all the current PCV’s greeted us at the door and cheered. Kaolack is the biggest region of volunteers in Senegal and it seems like a pretty cool family of people. We ordered some food and started to get to know everyone and it was a really great time. I also met one of my Toubacouta area neighbors, Byron, and found out that he was a theatre major too, and knows about Augusto Boal and wants to collaborate on some theatre projects. My situation just keeps getting better and better. Probably my favorite thing that happened in Kaolack though was the cooking dance party. I decided to cook up a big pot of spaghetti bolognaise for whoever wanted to chip in for the ingredients and this turned into a grand old group cooking event complete with America music and dance moves a plenty. Not only was it fun, but my bolognaise was delicious! Alas the vacation had to end though and the next day we said goodbye to all our friends and our new regional oasis.

Onwards and upwards! Amy Emily and I left Kaolack at 8am to head to the regional government offices in Foundgioune and here we have TTWWN4. You thought I was done with that motif didn’t you well… well actually I am done. There are far too many things that go wrong to list or count them, and if I do I will probably go insane. It simply isn’t healthy, and no one wants to read a bunch of bitching. Hence forth things that go wrong shall be referred to as funny stories. So funny story, we were on our way back from Foundgioune when one of our drivers (there were two Peace Corps cars) decided to take a shortcut through bush roads. This short cut took twice as much time as the regular road and involved quite a bit more mud and hairy situations. We eventually made it to Toubacouta though and had a wonderful evening beginning with a Tequila Sunrise at sunset and followed by half a chicken with French fries for me. It was delicious. The next day I installed in my village, Dassilame Seereer! Since then it has been a whirlwind of greeting people, sitting with the elders, drinking tea, setting up my room, doing laundry (by hand, for 2 hours with water I pulled from the well), drinking tea, visiting every compound in the village, pretending I know Seereer, hiding under my mosquito net as I thought my roof was going to blow off in a storm, drinking tea (they really like to drink tea) and battling a mouse.

Oh yes the title of this post isn’t just metaphorical, its literal. It was my first night in the village and all through the house not a creature was stirring EXCEPT for a mouse: one little mouse chewing a hole in my wall, right next to my head all night long. This also happened to be my Mephloquine (Malaria Prophylaxis with somewhat hallucinogenic side effects) day and the night of the aforementioned storm. I kinda felt like I was going insane. It got to the point where I was so frustrated that I got out of bed, got my machete and waited in front of the wall for him to break through for about half an hour. A different Garrison might have said to himself “so this is what I’ve come to, sitting alone in the middle of the night waiting for a mouse to break through my wall”. PCV Garrison however said “come on break through my wall, make my night, I’ll chop your freakin head off.” Like I said I was feeling a little insane. The mouse never did break through, but needless to say this meant war. The next night I was trying to fall asleep when I heard scurrying around my room. I got out my headlamp and machete and waited again. Suddenly there he was just sitting out in the open. He was actually pretty cute which makes me feel kinda bad about what happened next. Animal lovers be forewarned this gets a little graphic. Initially I just watched him. It was like my own little nature program. I considered just trying to go to sleep and dealing with him later, but then he crawled behind my metal trunk right by my head. I was not about to let a mouse crawl on me in my sleep so I did what had to be done. I pushed the metal trunk up against the wall and trapped him and then stabbed my machete behind the trunk. It was quick and relatively humane if you ask me. Lots of things can go wrong for both mice and men, although I don’t think that my mouse friend would euphemistically refer to this as a “funny story”. I texted my human friend about it and he said and I quote “dude you are legit”. I’m nothing special, that’s just how we do it here in Africa (snaps suspenders and rocks back and forth in my rocking chair).

Apart from this epic battle life here has been pretty mundane. My biggest problem right now is figuring out how to deal with my village’s insane generosity towards me. Its really throwing me for a loop right now. I tried to discuss what I should contribute towards food cost for my family and they tried to tell me that they didn’t want me to pay anything. When I was doing my laundry a woman said she would do it for me from now on but wouldn’t let me pay her. Twice my host dad has brought home extra food from Toubacouta just for me: no one else would eat it no matter how much I insisted. I feel like I’m not doing enough. Not just now, even once my projects get off the ground I feel like its not enough. These people have so little and they give so much. I have so much and I give so little. I give my time and my energy but I don’t give this laptop, or my solar panel, or my real American resources. Its tough. I feel selfish and guilty whenever I’m not out in the village getting to know people, or studying, or just sitting with my family. I need time to myself and time to rest, but right now I feel like I need to be working harder in order to deserve all that I am being given. They say in Peace Corps most of the time you don’t even see the true results of your work. I suppose I just need to have faith that I’m helping and do the best I can to keep myself happy as well while I do it.

Cheers,

Garrison

CPW, The Beach, and America... I mean Dakar

2010-10-13T01:15:00.000-07:00

Peter teaching Nepali to Senegalese counterparts so they know its freakin HARD to learn another language.

Me and my counterparts. They're happy trust me, Senegalese just don't smile for pictures.

The entire Stage crammed into two Alhums to go to the beach!

Beach House!

... I can't explain this...

Beer pong :-)

My view in the morning after sleeping on the beach.

At first this appears to be a really nice picture...

An awesome WWII bunker we found.

Are we sure this isn't Santa Barbara?

On the way to Dakar... Yes that is a sheep tied to the top of an Alhum.

Dakar is America...

Case and point! Club Atlantic is so so nice.

Burger with fries and a coke.

Peace Corps Headquarters.

Pretty darn nice!

I love it! I don't think I would have enjoyed PC as much during the Bush years...

Am I in Africa?

PC office supply closet.

It's just funny :-)

A Weekend in America

2010-10-05T00:49:00.001-07:00

I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I spent this weekend in America. It was rather convenient actually as it turns out that America is just a two-hour Alhum ride from Thies to Popenguine. Ok so not literally America, but qualitatively close enough for me. Yes this past weekend was the oft talked about and greatly anticipated BEACH WEEKEND, which is apparently a tradition for each new stage. Now before you start thinking that we’re just having fun and partying here in Senegal keep in mind that this was our first weekend off in 7 and a half weeks. We left on Saturday after once again getting up at 5:45 in the morning to come back from village. We had a few sessions in the morning and then it was off to Popenguine. Everyone had told us that the houses that PCV’s always rent are nice, but oh my god were they nice. They were like any standard beach houses you’d find in socal and with the waves, and beer, and spaghetti, and music, it really was a mini American vacation. As for the specifics of our debauchery… well I’ll just leave that up to your imagination. In all honesty though it was pretty laid back. No one went too crazy and mostly it was just nice to sit and talk with people, and lazily swim in the ocean.

When we were buying some “supplies” in town we ran into a group of American’s who are currently studying abroad in Dakar. This was such a fun experience. They were really excited to talk to us, and thought that it was so cool we were in the Peace Corps and that we would be living in villages and speaking the native languages. They had taken a few classes in Wolof, but admitted that their program isn’t as intensive so they didn’t know a whole lot. We helped them find the Toubab boutique and left back to the house with a little more pep in our step feeling just that much more legit in our Peace Corpness.

I brought my backpacking tent, so when I was tired of the loud house I just pitched it on the beach and went to sleep. That was really nice as well, although sand is not as soft as one might think. After breakfast the next day a bunch of us went up to a little “nature reserve” which has a hill overlooking the beach. It was beautiful. We all climbed on top of an old WWII bunker and lounged and talked and took wacky pictures for about an hour. After that more swimming, then reading, then napping, and then back to Thies. Twas a short trip but it was fabulous.

Today we went to Dakar for the first time since arriving in Senegal. If you had told me then that I would ever consider Dakar to feel like America, I would have told you you’re crazy, but now it feels like coming home. I think initially I had a bad reading on Dakar. The shock of seeing the trash and lack of infrastructure made me think that this was terrible poverty for many people, but in reality its just bad infrastructure, and sooner or later even though it sucks you just work around the problems like garbage and bad roads and live a pretty happy life. Looks can be deceiving and while Dakar, and Senegal in general, has problems, living in a third world country does not necessarily mean that people are miserable and starving to death.

All right so now Dakar. We started with a driving tour through down town area which looked amazingly like most big cities in America. After a rushed walk around said area we went to the American Club for lunch. This was rather bizarre. The club is attached to an international school and kids use the pool for swim classes. I couldn’t help but think of the Ojai Valley Athletic Club and how I used to go there as a kid after school, and how these kids are doing essentially the same thing but in Senegal. There’s a snack bar, a pool, tennis courts, and a volleyball court, all of which I had in the states. Bizarre. Lunch there was American enough but still not quite the burger I was hoping for. We had a few sessions about security and living abroad from the Embassy and then we went to the Peace Corps Senegal Headquarters. Excuse me if it sounds like I’m repeating myself, but oh my god was this place nice. I heard a rumor that it may have been donated to PC by the Senegalese government, but I’m not sure. Anyways the marble staircase and air conditioning and volunteer computer rooms, and awesome medical rooms/ med hut for sickies to stay in certainly showed me the wealth of resources and infrastructure committed to assisting PC Volunteers in Senegal. It makes me feel special in an odd way. In another way though its very strange to think of the disconnect that there are so many things that I get automatically that would never be available to my Senegalese friends. For example I could never take my Senegalese family to the American Club… That’s strange. As much as I try to integrate and live at the level of my counterparts, I will always be rich and privileged because I will always be an American.

As privileged as one is though, nature still calls. And by nature I mean good old number one and number two. So we were coming back to Thies and got stuck in absolutely terrible traffic. One volunteer, who shall remain nameless for now, had to pee something fierce so he got out of the bus and went… not in a bathroom, not on the side of the road, but on the truck next to us. In his defense it was the most discreet way to do it. Even so though I don’t think I have ever seen a Senegalese man laugh so hard as the one in the car behind us. Oh we are a dignified bunch indeed.

Well there we are a short and relatively more rapid blog post. I got a few more pictures up, but that’s really difficult with internet over here so I don’t know when I’ll be able to post pictures from this weekend. Hopefully before install in two weeks. Wow that’s soon. Oh one last thing. For swearing in on the 15^th one person from each language group gives a speech in that language to say just some basic thank you’s and what not. I will be doing the Seereer speech and as it turns out that Senegalese TV comes to film this, so I will be on Senegalese national television. No pressure… Should be cool though. Thanks for reading!

Cheers

Garrison

Volunteer Visit Pictures

2010-10-05T00:38:00.000-07:00

The Regional house library/ projector wall in Kaolack

Me with my new family in Dassilame Seereer. The man two to my left is the Theatre Director of the troupe in town..

My ridiculously nice two room hut :-)

Toubacouta. So so nice :-)

Beer and Patagonia

Cail (my closest neighbor) and Jessica at the Campamonte

The master farmer site

Riding through a herd of cows.

Jessica with dinner. Yum :-)

Me Joey and Jaime in Sokone.

A standard Senegalese Dog. They aren't as cuddly as American Dogs :-(

The road from Toubacouta to Dassilame Seereer.

Back in Thies with my buds Chris and Greg.

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

2010-09-28T06:54:00.000-07:00

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!

2010-09-11T12:37:00.000-07:00

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

2010-09-09T00:32:00.000-07:00

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! :-)

Pictures

2010-08-24T01:04:00.000-07:00

Home sweet home.

My brother Saliu having fun posing for the camera.

My host mother and cousin preparing to break the fast.

The view out my barred window. That's my friend the Piss (Horse in Seereer)

Our tech Garden and two very sweaty PCT's

My compound with the big shade trees for sitting

Lauren and I on our way to home stay for the first time.

Thoreau, Seereer and Buddhist Philosophy

2010-08-24T00:32:00.001-07:00

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life and see if I could learn what they had to teach; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." - Henry David Thoreau

I purposefully wrote this quote on the first page of my journal well in advance of departing for Africa. I thought that it would be better to see this piece of wisdom each time I open it rather than the terrified ramblings of my first day, sleep deprived, homesick self. Today is day 13 in Africa and I can’t begin to explain how long that feels. Thus far I have laughed, cried, danced, spoken various amounts of 4 languages, read 1 book, received an African Name (Mbay Ngome), used a squat toilet, taken a bucket bath, been yelled at for not greeting my home stay aunt, received 5 vaccines, and… etc… Suffice it to say there has been a lot of activity these past two weeks.

Now for some specifics: I am studying Seereer which is a native African language spoken mostly in the river delta area of Senegal. Contrary to what you may read on some Pular’s blogs the Seereers are not slaves to the Pulars. They are our slaves and we are their kings. Trust me this exchange in quite common in Senegal and not the least bit racist. I am living in the small village of Ngoudiane, which is about 45 min outside of Thies. I live in a compound with 4 families and about 30 people. Things are busy as you might guess. I have my own room with a lock and bars on my window, which is nice for the security of my stuff, although I feel a bit like an animal in a cage sometimes. My mother’s name is Y Nogoye and my father’s name is Ba Mordu. I have three brothers and three sisters and sooo many cousins and aunts and uncles. My fellow PCT Lauren lives in the same compound and by Senegalese definitions of family, she is my sister. Family in Senegal is big, very big. Beyond the fact that men can have up to four wives, the restrictions of who can be considered family are much looser than in the states so families are huge. Also in Senegalese culture the children of my brothers are technically my children, so I believe some congratulations are in order. Yep that’s right I’m a baby daddy in Senegal.

As for the day to day, most of my days start at 5am with a wake up call from my friendly neighborhood Mosque: I stash some earplugs under my pillow, which I pop in when the call to prayer starts so I can sleep another couple hours. I finally get up at around 7:45 and take a very refreshing bucket bath. Don’t feel sorry for me with this one, bucket baths are great. Basically it’s just a really efficient way to take a bath. Breakfast consists of bread with butter and Nescafe with powdered milk and sugar. My family is fasting for Ramadan so I hide in my room and eat by myself. After breakfast its language class with my LCF (Language and cross cultural facilitator) Asan. Three hours later it is too hot to think so we go home for lunch (leftover’s from dinner) and then I take a very sweaty nap. At around three thirty its time for more language and by 5:30 our brains are exhausted so we go home to sit around until we break the fast at sundown. Breaking the fast is one of my favorite times of the day. Everyone is happy and the food is usually great. One day we had egg sandwiches and dates. Mmmm… Dinner is almost always malo for lip: rice with fish. If you’ve been reading carefully you will realize that this means I also eat rice with fish for lunch too. I’m kinda over the rice with fish. After dinner we sit and talk (talking by my definition means saying anything successfully in Seereer) and then I go to bed. I usually don’t really go to bed. I go into my room and enjoy some solitude with text messages from home and a book. Then sleep. That’s my typical day at my home stay site.

There are too many other random things to talk about; I already have more than I can possibly explain here. We started building a community garden to practice our technical training and I sweated more than I thought was physically possible: I watched my brother kill two chickens by slowly cutting their necks with a sickeningly dull knife which, while sad, made for a delicious dinner that night: I experienced pure and utter joy when I returned to Thies and was able to speak English and have a cold beer, and I had the high point of my two weeks here, a 30 min video skype conversation with Hannah.

Lets see I was meaning to write something profound in this post… well here’s my two cents. I’ve been having a hard time with many things here, mostly the homesickness and the weight of this two-year commitment. In many ways I feel like I’m not the right person to do this work. I feel like I’ll always be focused elsewhere and looking forward to the end of this experience. Right now I want the results of service: knowing the language, having had an adventure, and going home to my life and loved ones in America, and that isn’t going to cut it. These two years are going to be miserable if I’m only looking forward to the end. I need to find a way to live in the moment and place my happiness here rather than there. Thank you Buddhism. That’s the profound thought I’ve been having. As hard as everything is I need to start enjoying my life now instead of putting off enjoyment until, the end of PST, or once I’m fluent in the language, or once I’ve made a difference, or when I get back. Life can only be lived now. Speaking of making a difference, there is so much work to be done in this country. If I can put my personal problems aside and focus on the work, I might be able to accomplish something after all. It’s hard to describe how intimidating that is though. The amount of work that I have to do and the lists of things I need to learn seem endless. One step at a time. That’s all I can do.

Thanks for all the letters and emails. They help a lot. Keep um comin! :-) By the way I am keeping track, and Grandma is way in the lead.

Free Fall

2010-08-12T14:42:00.000-07:00

I have been in Senegal for less than 48 hours and it already feels like I've been here a week. People who I only met four days ago feel like old friends, and slowly but surely routine is already setting in. Yesterday was the big travel day. I count yesterday and the day before as one day since I never really went to sleep for more than a few minutes. Firstly South African Airways is the nicest airline I have ever traveled on. The flight crew was nice and sociable and really helpful. The plane was also quite new and impeccably clean. I officially endorse this airline for all your African travel needs :-).

Arrival in Dakar was overwhelming to say the least. I knew that I was going to Africa, but I didn't really understand the level of poverty they have here. To be fair its not that the people in Dakar live without anything. The route we traveled is apparently not the best view of the city. In any case though infrastructure seemed to be not very developed, although there was an encouraging amount of construction. We arrived at the training center, and after a brief breakfast of baguettes with jam and chocolate sauce, we hit the hay. 3 hours later it was time to get up and I begrudgingly got up and tried to figure out what was going on, which took a good 5 min.

After lunch we had our first introduction session... which lasted a really long time for having not slept the night before. With all the new information and being very tired I started to kinda freak out a little... I take that back, I was freaking out a lot. Its hard to explain how homesick I was. Here's a sample of my inner monologue: What the hell have I gotten myself into this isn't fun and I don't know if I can do this for the next two years everyone else is doing fine and I'm freaking out I want to go home but I shouldn't because I made a commitment but I miss Hannah and this is really hard and I don't like it! Yeah that about sums it up. Put that on repeat and play it in your head for a few hours and you'll feel pretty crappy too :-)

Ah the magic of some communication home and a good night's sleep. I woke up to the sounds of a beautiful jungle. Hundreds of birds chirping and singing in a quiet but spectacular symphony. The morning was also cool, which is really a treat here. I don't know if I've said this yet, but Senegal is hot and VERY humid. The morning was great and the day turned out to be even better. I found out that I'm actually a rural ag volunteer meaning that I'll be in a small village rather than a city. This made me very happy. I also got to interview to share my experience, and the APCD for agriculture said that I have a good French accent. That put a little pep in my step. Then that pep was squashed a little by my french test where I probably sounded like a 5 year old. But that's fine.

The afternoon also included 2 more vaccines. Apparently only 5 more... yay... Mostly though the afternoon consisted of sitting around the disco hut and chatting, skyping, lounging, reading, or buying a cold drink from the guards. It was wonderful :-). Hard to believe how much we did today actually. It feels like we've been here for a week. The country director was here today chatting, we had a health seminar where we talked about inevitable diarrhea and got out ceramic water filters... oh and we had baked chicken with fried potatoes and ketchup. Overall things are pretty good. Inevitably that view will change once we start learning the languages and staying in the villages, but today was good. Bird by bird. Day by Day. That's all we can do right? Bon nuit tout le monde!

P.S. I'll try to post some pictures tomorrow. I need to do it when other people aren't taking up bandwidth.

Food Porn and Patriotism

2010-08-09T22:03:00.000-07:00

Today was the first day of staging in Arlington VA and our last full day in the States. I suppose it was a little bit like the first day of summer camp. At first it was a awkward with everyone asking the same questions and consistently forgetting names... well I was consistently forgetting names anyways. As the day went on though it was amazing how close we started to get. Our coordinators reminded us that in a very short time all the people around us would become our best friends. Sorry everyone at home but you just got replaced so there! I'm just kidding you could never be replaced. Remember that time that we (insert sentimental memory here) and how we almost (insert amusing anecdote about something going wrong). All kidding aside though I'm really amazed at how much we've connected and I'm really excited to get to know everyone. It's really an awesome group.

At the end of the day a bunch of us went out to dinner at the Rock Bottom Brewery... strange name... It was great though! The beer was fantastic and the food was delicious. I had a margarita pizza to start, which I shared with the table. I then had a salad with blue cheese and a Pale Ale... sadly not Sierra Nevada, but good. For my entree I had a juicy medium rare New York steak with a great glaze and topped with Gorgonzola cheese. For dessert I had a chocolate sundae. It was the perfect final dinner in the States before eating mostly rice and fish for the next two years.

After dinner a small group of us went to tour the national mall to look at all the monuments. I had never been there before, and it was really quite stunning. Very strange to reflect on monuments of war as I'm about to join the Peace Corps. You hope that organizations like the Peace Corps will lead to less of a need for war. I know its a lofty goal and my service isn't likely to make a huge difference on that front, but hopefully I can spread a positive image of Americans and add to the overall tone of peace. Surely the attempt is noble anyways.

I oficially have 1 min left of battery so I will end here. Tomorrow morning it's vaccinations and then off to the airport. 5:40pm flight to Dakar Senegal. Wish me luck! Ok it died before I finished. Now I'm off!

Au Revoir!

Jumping off the cliff

2010-08-01T18:05:00.000-07:00

Well it's finally actually happening. As much as my brain tries to deny it, I will be leaving for the Peace Corps for two years of service in Senegal in exactly one week. This begs the question, how did I get here? Well that deceptively simple question is one that I have been trying to wrap my head around lately. Somewhere between annoying my friends and family with activist clubs, volunteering for various things, and oh yeah going to school 12 hours a day as a theatre major, I decided it might be fun to go into the Peace Corps after college, to take some time and do something meaningful and good for the world... so I applied... and low and behold they took me. One might think that the logical progression from application to acceptance would thus culminate in departure oversees... yes one might think that, but my brain is exceedingly stubborn and will certainly not believe any of this is actually happening until I land in Dakar, Senegal on August 11th.

Denial or no denial, there is packing to be done! It amazes me actually how fully I have engaged with American consumerism before supposedly living a simpler life in Africa. I have been shopping non stop, and frankly will be perfectly happy if I never enter another Wall-Mart again in my life. Thanks to my dad and his connections in the outdoor industry I have gotten some pretty spectacular gear. I feel a bit like MacGyver with all of my gadgets: a solar panel, a storage battery, rechargeable AA's and AAA's, adapters, cables for everything, medical supplies, a 4 band world phone, a dry bag for my laptop, 2 UV water purifiers, 2 ceramic water filters capable of filtering enough water for 40 people per day, and a digital camera waterproof down to 33ft deep. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Here are the most recent pictures of my piles of stuff.

And my solar panel and battery. I'm pretty sure this will come in handy :-)

Without a doubt this transition is going to be hard. I will miss friends and family and most of all Hannah, but hopefully she will wait for me. It's only two years honey ;-). Sorry to get corny, I won't do it too often, I promise. Hopefully this blog will help everyone to feel connected to me and me to them during this time. I promise to be as interesting and funny as possible, and if all goes well I may get a few poignant or profound moments... we'll see :-). Thanks for reading and I hope to see you back here soon!

Au Revoir!