First of all, for those of you who are crazy and read my blog…I’m sorry!!!!!! There is currently only one working internet connection for all the Peace Corps volunteers in my region and I have been doing lots of school applications. I have loads of updates which I will try to keep brief (and y’all know I’ll fail). I am going to write this post about funny happenings and day to day life/events in addition to another post (before this one) about my projects!
I learned the Wolof word (I speak Pulaar) for a big fish. This is the kind of fish you are lucky to catch, and the kind only eaten by the more financially stable Senegalese, aka the kind that I have never seen in Thiewal Lao. The word is Thiof (sounds a bit like choff) and apparently it can also be used to describe a sexy man. As in “I’m going to go to the bar tonight to score me a Thiof.”
At the start of Mango season while sitting outside my hut I suddenly saw 10 kids go screaming through my compound. I thought someone might be dying…no, no, just a fallen mango branch, gotta get those mangos while they’re hot! I walked over to the tree to see one of my Moms (who is a grandmother) emerging from the depths of the fallen branch/half tree with a grin on her face like a ten year old and a bucket of mangoes on her head…yea that’s right she outsmarted the kids and brought a bucket. We then feasted on boiled green mangos and mangos pounded with pepper and chicken bouillon seasoning.
I have seen a lot of ridiculous car care techniques in this country…one of the more recent techniques involved stopping the car en route, fishing out some laundry detergent, giving the engine a good wash? And then continuing on our merry way. I, for one, did not notice a difference post wash.
I saw a freshly born infant (I mean within the past 2 hours) with penciled in eyebrows.
I had a lovely Easter here. We went to a Senegalese catholic church in the morning and the music was a really cool mixture of traditional hymns, African instrumentation and gospel style singing. Then we discovered a random park, complete with a mangrove lake, beach, live music, yummy food, AANNNDDD a ridiculously nice show stable, complete with 2 large rings, full size, non-malnourished horses, jumps galore, wifi and food. Clearly I was a bit hyper. Right around Easter I also took a day trip to the beach where myself and two of my friends were joined by a Senegalese man. This is not very abnormal, but when he started singing either O My Darling Clementine or the Banana Boat Song (Daaaaay-O) – can’t recall which – things started to seem a bit fishy…and I don’t mean thiofy. We were mildly annoyed so we started to leave the beach. Our new friend accommodatingly followed us, at which point, while walking up the steps behind us, he says, “All the girls with the jai fundes…these I love.” For anyone wondering right now a jai funde is a big booty J
Despite what that man said my booty has not become more Senegalese, my bargaining skills on the other hand, apparently have. While in Ireland I somehow managed to accidentally bargain for a bagel and some ginormous meringues. Go me.
With the arrival of rainy season I have again seen the departure of my phone reception, but this year I have shown my status as a second year volunteer and have developed my skills as a bush messenger. While in the garage waiting to catch a car from my regional capitol back to my road town I met a guy who needed to deliver an important (or we’ll just pretend it was important) governmental message to my village and another near me. Never mind that he didn’t know me, he entrusted both letters to me, given that “I want to be a postal worker” vibe I so casually emit.
The other day, while adventuring via a small bus we like to call an alhum (short for alhumdulilah, or ‘praise be to God” in Arabic), I was fortunate enough to witness the towing of another alhum using…drumroll please…an old fishing net. Bet you can guess how well that worked out.
When you take a sept-place (old decrepit station wagon) around Senegal, you generally have to pay to put you baggage in the back. On my way home from Dakar a while ago I didn’t feel like swinging by the bank prior to heading to the garage. Cut to me, sitting in a sept-place with 7 other passengers and 4 bags in my lap. We drove this way for a while before the driver finally turned around, boggled by the toubab peering out from behind a small hill’s worth of luggage. When I explained my pathetic monetary situation he just started laughing, pulled over, jumped out, opened my door, took all my bags, and placed them in the trunk. It was incredibly kind of him as very few drivers would do that but I think he was also just getting a lot of enjoyment out of seeing the poor white kid.
When I finally did go to the bank I waited in line for over 3 hours to cash a check to myself while 100+ people went (thank you new ticket-number-taking-system-mabob) ahead of me. Why didn’t I just use the ATM conveniently located next door, you ask? Why, because despite being on order for the past 17 months, my ATM card has not yet arrived.
Going back to the subject of my decrepit apparently poor looking self, another time I was enjoying the delights of sept-place travel I started out in one car. That car got a flat tire. Switched to a new car. That car had a loose wheel. I know this because the driver had to keep stopping, running around to the opposite side of the car and tightening the bolts. During one of these repair intervals the guy sitting next to me started trying really hard to give me about 10 dollars in cfa. No idea why, but I guess my village clothes look every bit as bad as my Senegalese moms say they do.
Another time while waiting in the garage for a car I got asked on a legitimate date by the guy simultaneously trying to sell me phone credit for a phone provider I don’t use. Not once, but thrice. I get marriage proposals all the time…no big deal…but a date, now that’s fancy.
I watched my friend Chelsea’s aunt eat honey a while ago. No, not the lovely refined, clean honey you are thinking of. Honey with whole bees just floating around in it. Don’t worry, she didn’t actually eat the bees, just spit them out one by one.
The other night, while sleeping I started to notice that my rear end was feeling rather itchy. Yes…I scratched it. I finally decided it was not a mere mosquito bite. Upon mirror aided examination, I learned that I had developed a 2 inch scab. Apparently this is what happens when you fall asleep on an earwig.
Upon returning to my compound one afternoon I found my mom Alliou deep in thought, head bent over her lap, rubbing her hands together. As I approached I noticed she was holding a zip-lock bag in her hand. After I inquired what her goal was she informed me she was trying to open it, at which point I got to unveil the magic of the zip-lock. Given the lack of skills which accompanies most of my endeavors into Senegalese household chores, it was nice to feel competent for once.
Kindii, my lovely Senegalese dog briefly made a habit of carrying around a dead chicken foot. Not just carrying, noooo. She would toss it into the air, often in my unsuspecting direction and then try her hardest to catch it. Thankfully she has outgrown this stage…for now. She has been hanging around with a baby donkey who seems to be having a positive influence on her.
One of the girls in my compound recently got married. I got my hair specially braided and everything. Unfortunately, the bride leaves so I didn’t get to see the actual ceremony. But the bride’s preparation is pretty cool anyway. People start showing up in the afternoon bringing gifts; fabric, wash tubs, food bowls, etc. The old women set up a big display and make a big production out of counting and recounting and rerecounting the gifts. Then they yell out loud how many of each item she received. “6 small buckets, 4 large buckets, 3 wash tubs, 5 large eating bowls, etc etc etc. All this time you don’t see the bride, but as night approaches she comes out and sits on a stool and is bathed and dressed (with appropriate modesty) in front of a circle of women while she wails and cries and generally acts unhappy (though mostly it seems to be just an act). She continues to cry and hide behind a white veil while the women do one final counting and packing of the goods, they she and her family and friends all jump on a horse cart and roll off to the wedding. And that’s all I know cause they rolled away.
I think one of the hardest things about being here is not having my Mom to baby me when I’m sick. But recently, when I was pretty sick I village, I was extremely touched by the compassion my two Senegalese moms had for me. They said they knew how much I probably missed home when I was sick and they wanted to help. They made me juice (which I have never seen them do before) and prepared a special breakfast (again, one I had never seen) made from the yellow powdery inside of a medium sized seed pod, soured milk, millet and sugar. They told me it was supposed to help sick people and I know they went out of their way to prepare it. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture that made me so glad I have this amazing village family!
The other night, I woke up to hear Kindii growling and barking more violently than usual. I was a little bit scared because I assumed something or someone must have entered my yard, I couldn’t see why else Kindii would act so crazily. I got out of bed and pulled back the fabric that acts as my door…no people or animals…wait, Kindii was directing her anger toward a brown pile over in the corner. Could there be a snake hiding behind a piece of bark. I worked up the courage to flip the bark over with a long stick…nothing. Kindii was doing absolutely nothing, except growling ferociously at a strip of bark that had fallen into my yard…silly dog.
A few nights after this incident, it poured all night. Kindii was not in my hut when I woke up so I decided to look for her. Apparently, though I had slept right through it, the 10ft by 15 foot thatched awning attached to my house collapsed during the night. I have no idea how I can be so talented at sleeping. After worrying that Kindii was stuck under the fallen structure, I finally found her wandering around by the women’s hut. Phew! My mom then told me I should go to the faro (the seasonal creek where they do rice farming). She said I wouldn’t believe it and that you couldn’t even see the women’s garden, which is right next to the faro. I wandered on down. It seemed that almost all of my village was there yelling and screaming and cheering! It was like a carnival. We had a river…and a dam…and even some mini rapids! Whoot whoot! People couldn’t cross the faro to get to our neighboring village Bassoum, which is also how we get to the dirt road we use to get out of village. All the kids where playing in the water which was just great cause I am sure I am the only person who can swim for miles. In fact, later in the day my counterpart walked up to me soaked up to the neck. One of the kids had wandered too far and my counterpart had to go in after him, had the water been a foot deeper I have no idea what would have happened. People here just seem like they can’t be bothered with watching their kids which is both frustrating and worrying, but luckily everyone was ok. Apparently this magnitude of flooding only happens every few years so I hope there is nothing to worry about for a while. It was a rather joyful day though in most respects.
While walking through one of the women’s groups’ presidents houses the other day I noticed some very pretty fabric which I stopped to exam closer. It was decorated all over with different sex positions. I thought this was relatively amusing given that showing my knees here is considered slutty and when I mentioned this to Mymuna (the women’s group president) she didn’t seem the least bit perturbed. She even seemed to say, “why shouldn’t I use illustrated sex position fabric in my interior décor”…I couldn’t think of a reason.
I’ve also recently been pulling up A LOT of grass, in the women’s garden, and my Master Farmer garden, which has led me to remember…I am allergic to grass. Clearly not in any kind of intense way, American grass really doesn’t do a thing to me. But ripping big handfuls of meadow grass out by the roots for a few hours, that does. It’s quite itchy, and kind of like mowing the lawn by hand…fun J
While working in the women’s garden I also had a chance to demonstrate my impressive ax swinging skills. There was a tree in the way and of course no one was doing anything about it so I rather angrily wandered on back to the village, returned with an ax and started hacking away. The women asked me to stop but I refused, trying to prove a point that it wasn’t ok to just ignore trees that fall on the new fence. I also wanted to prove that I was not in fact completely useless and could actually use an ax. Well I got so riled up that I swung, missed and gave my big toenail a trim. Luckily it was an incredibly dull ax and my toe does not now match my half thumb! Also, needless to say, my village still thinks I have the motor skills of a two year old child.
On my way into Dabo (my road town) for the weekly market I was convinced I saw Siamese twin dogs, joined by the back leg. When I returned three days later I saw the same odd creature and decided I needed to investigate. It was not Siamese twins. No, no, it was in fact 2 dogs stuck together in the act of doing it doggie style, except they were now butt to butt in an odd, incredibly painful looking kind of tug of war. I tried to see if I could help but they wouldn’t let me get near them, yikes!
Finally, while heading into Kolda on an alhum, the guy across from me asked his neighbor if he could borrow some matches. He took three matches and placed them in him mouth like he was going to chew on some pieces of straw. He waited like this for a good ten minutes then one by one started chewing the matchsticks and rather absentmindedly spitting the remains at my feet. I have no idea what to make of this as it was completely random and not actually directed toward me, my feet where just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Hope you enjoyed my update JI’ll try to get another one up before toooooo long!
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