Happy 4th of July!!!!!!!!!!
Hanging out in the Cesspool of Detroit, Senegal, eating fruit and veggies.
Unlike many PC Senegal Vols, I chose not to go to Kedegou for the annual bash, in large part because I’ve been feeling guilty about being out of site so much for my first few months, mainly due to my charret accident, and Kedegou is quite a trek from the Delta. I have mixed thoughts on it. I really miss the kids from my Stage and almost all of them are there, but for the past week or so have been frustrated on language and general integration. There is a list of recommended things to do in your first few months at site and I’m at least a month behind. It’s just been in the past few weeks that I’ve ventured out of my compound alone, to walk even just to my counterpart’s house, and just this past week or two that I’ve been walking around, without much purpose than to greet anyone I saw. These are things that I should have done in my first few weeks, but was a mixture of too overwhelmed and too busy still learning names of people in my compound (still learning…new people seem to show up every week!). I haven’t yet started to survey people much about the community or even health issues, so I felt like taking nearly a week going down to the Gou would only further hurt it. It’s not that I’m not doing anything, but it’s mostly been with my family or with the Vols nearest me, so I’m branching out, a little. A friendly visit to Sally’s compound (Sally from the charret incident) turned into an ambush of questions on family planning (which I cannot yet adequately answer in Serere, fyi) and people’s names. Not quite what I was prepared for.
And, the women want me to host a meeting about Malaria (fr: palaudisme, s: sibiru) before the Rainy Season starts. Fab. Great. Wonderful. The problem: my vocabulary is not yet adequate to host an entire meeting, complete with fast questions and old wive’s tales that I won’t understand. Oh yea, and the Rainy Season basically started this past weekend, so it needs to happen ASAP. Yea…will be talking to Sally upon my return from Kaolack about when, but probably within the next week or so.
Even with my language frustrations, in some ways I have (slowly) been doing a little health-related and community work. Two weeks ago I helped with the Vitamin A (for eyes) and de-worming vaccine plus USAID-supplied mosquito net distribution to children under 5, in my area. It was a stressful several days, mainly because I don’t understand more than a few words of Wolof, I was the only “toubab” and thus became the subject of super irritating “TOUBAB!!!!!!!!!!!!” comments, and even though I was with health workers and Red Cross Senegal people, the marriage offers and general annoyances I constantly receive never stopped, nor did any of my “friends” from the health post help me out when I was being harassed. It was annoying. The good part was that I was able to do a pretty extensive tour of many of the surrounding villages, even the ones quite far away, and now feel like I have a better understanding of the area. Though we went to many Serere villages, the language used was Wolof (bc not all of the volunteers helping with the drive speak Serere), so it was cool to impress a few people with my Serere. I also received a lesson on last names and how to generally tell Wolof/Serere/Pulaar based on the last name (more so than I could before) and the Frenchified spellings of Senegalese first names. However, the man I was teamed up with (We were divided into groups of 2 or 3. I was also teamed up with my nurse counterpart’s eldest daughter, a very cool girl), was ridiculous, condescending, refused to speak Serere to me (he would sometimes speak it to the people in the village), only spoke French to me, and basically treated me like an idiot. I had to remind myself that I work for the Corps de la PAIX (PEACE) and that murder is not really in my Health Vol job description. Anyway, one of the days we got to my village, so it was awesome for people from my community to see me doing some health-related work, even if I didn’t know everyone’s names, lol.
The drive was Tuesday-Thursday ALL DAY, but then I had to go back to the Health Post both Friday and Saturday to make sure the eligible kids in my compound got their nets (coupons were distributed in compounds and then the mothers had to take the coupons to a central spot in the village or to the Post), because nets were quickly running out and I wanted to make sure everyone got their nets. Sometime during the week, however, I drank some bad water or something because Saturday early AM I woke up FREEZING COLD, had to get my fleece blanket from my suitcase and registered a temp of 102.3. Somehow, I (barely) made it to the Post to get my sister one last net, but that’s about all of the work I could do for a few days. I spent the next few days “hanging out” in my douche, drinking water and ORS (oral rehydration salts and Tang, to fight dehydration), barely able to eat from stomach pains, unable to sleep due to terrible headaches, laying on the floor trying to get comfortable, laying in my bed (yes, bed!) trying to get comfortable (not possible, it’s a horrible bed!), and kicking myself for not packing Lipton soup or anything stomach-friendly before coming to Senegal. However, my family gave me a small banana Saturday night with my dinner (ate alone in my hut after refusing to eat lunch that day). It’s probably the nicest gift I have received since coming to this country bc I have NO CLUE where a banana is available in a 20km radius of my village. Maybe someone went to the weekly market several towns over, but no one had mentioned that to me. Anyway, it was possible the best banana I’ve ever had (mainly bc it had been quite a few weeks since I had eaten a banana and was craving one). After several days and probably a few pounds lost, I’m much better and the stomach pains are mostly gone, thanks to Cipro, a PCVs best friend and PCMO drug of choice. However, it’s very difficult as a Health Volunteer to explain to your family why you didn’t visit the Health Post though you are extremely sick, while trying to encourage them to go them for the same reason, or to bring their children with their weird skin infections to the Post for proper treatment. And, Village Med says I got sick bc I walk too much and too fast, worked too hard last week, and mixed water from different villages (not that the water I had was bad, just that it was mixed). Okay.
Spent several afternoons this week hanging out with the two teachers left in the village. They are fun, and I think a little lonely, so get excited when I stop by. They will be good people to work with, esp as the entire Health Program is shifting to working with the schools, which I’m quite excited about.
My goal here in Kaolack this weekend is to rest, get some vitamins in my diet (it’s been about two weeks since I had a veggie that wasn’t an onion…), buy some staple foods for when I next get sick/Rainy Season, get a few more hut supplies, and write an article to the PCSenegal newsletter about Lessons Learned during the first few months at site. A fellow Vol thought I would be the perfect person to write up about some of my experiences already. Lol, but so true!
vendredi 4 juillet 2008
Bugs and the Start of the Rainy Season
So anyone who knows me well should know that I have a bit of an irrational fear of the creepy and crawly, namely bugs, insects, xurur/kurur (Serere), whatever you want to call them. Well, with the onset of almost daily rains this past week (sometimes overnight, some afternoon, am, etc), creepy things have suddenly appeared and taken over. It began with the flying termites (Yes…) on Saturday or Sunday (don’t know, I was sick) that filled the air with white specks like cotton and grew as the day progressed. Then came flying black beetles, almost like June Bugs, but larger and land hard on you and buzz loudly as they fly around and eww… One actually tormented my sleep Monday night by somehow getting INSIDE my mosquito net. Not fun. Then came millipedes/centipedes at least 6inches long and soooo creepy (I’m getting good though at sweeping them out of my hut). Also in this mix are scorpions (host dad killed one two nights ago and it was the 3rd I had seen that day), new spiders, large moths, mosquitos, cockroaches (one in my room, yuck!), and random other large insects. And this is just after the first few rains. I’m already not amused by the rainy season and am dreading what else comes. Ew!
I should have taken some pics, but I guess those will have to wait, but it’s incredible the way the grass and weeds spring up after the rains. The road from my village to town already looks like a totally different country and the contrast from the green grass and trees to the blue of the sky is sooo beautiful. However, I’ve recently learned (from teachers and own observation), that the road becomes virtually impassable in about a month because the ground is SO saturated with water. Apparently, you have to take off your shoes and tread in the water barefoot…great way to get an infection. Already, the horses and donkeys with charrets have a difficult time traversing the only partially-flooded road. It’s not just my rural road that’s a problem. Apparently the next village over (nearest Volunteer and where I did my site visit), basically becomes an island surrounded by water and rice fields bc the ground is so flooded and the river is high too. This morning, it was rough just getting to Kaolack bc the already HORRIBLE road and surrounding fields (where half of the driving is done bc the road is so bad) were full of water from the early am’s rain and it took at least half an hour longer than usual, not to mention way more bumps, just to navigate the road. Annoying. That, and the already-smelly Kaolack is now full of mud, water, and raw sewage everywhere. Not a fun place to be.
The start of the rains also means that people are back to work. The millet was planted a few weeks ago, but peanuts have to wait until the rains begin, so now my family (and everyone else in the area, for that matter) has taken to the fields to plant old-school style (ox and plow or horse and plow, not American farming-style machines). The past few weeks have seen the women in every single compound break into their peanut stash, smash and sort the shells from the nut/bean/whatever, and then hand sort individual peanuts based on ones that can be planted as seeds and ones that won’t seed and will instead be cooked for a meal. In another month, once things have started growing, EVERYONE (men, women, kids, etc) will be tending to the fields, peanut, millit, and rice. The teachers and my nurse counterpart have asked what I will do then, when everyone is gone and in the fields? Probably a mix of learning how to work in the fields (yea, I know…but it’s what you do here and people already seem annoyed I haven’t yet been to the fields—hello, I’ve been SICK and unable to eat your food!), hoping to talk health as people work, reading/studying, and then there is the almost month-long IST. Oh, and avoiding creepy crawly things…ew.
I should have taken some pics, but I guess those will have to wait, but it’s incredible the way the grass and weeds spring up after the rains. The road from my village to town already looks like a totally different country and the contrast from the green grass and trees to the blue of the sky is sooo beautiful. However, I’ve recently learned (from teachers and own observation), that the road becomes virtually impassable in about a month because the ground is SO saturated with water. Apparently, you have to take off your shoes and tread in the water barefoot…great way to get an infection. Already, the horses and donkeys with charrets have a difficult time traversing the only partially-flooded road. It’s not just my rural road that’s a problem. Apparently the next village over (nearest Volunteer and where I did my site visit), basically becomes an island surrounded by water and rice fields bc the ground is so flooded and the river is high too. This morning, it was rough just getting to Kaolack bc the already HORRIBLE road and surrounding fields (where half of the driving is done bc the road is so bad) were full of water from the early am’s rain and it took at least half an hour longer than usual, not to mention way more bumps, just to navigate the road. Annoying. That, and the already-smelly Kaolack is now full of mud, water, and raw sewage everywhere. Not a fun place to be.
The start of the rains also means that people are back to work. The millet was planted a few weeks ago, but peanuts have to wait until the rains begin, so now my family (and everyone else in the area, for that matter) has taken to the fields to plant old-school style (ox and plow or horse and plow, not American farming-style machines). The past few weeks have seen the women in every single compound break into their peanut stash, smash and sort the shells from the nut/bean/whatever, and then hand sort individual peanuts based on ones that can be planted as seeds and ones that won’t seed and will instead be cooked for a meal. In another month, once things have started growing, EVERYONE (men, women, kids, etc) will be tending to the fields, peanut, millit, and rice. The teachers and my nurse counterpart have asked what I will do then, when everyone is gone and in the fields? Probably a mix of learning how to work in the fields (yea, I know…but it’s what you do here and people already seem annoyed I haven’t yet been to the fields—hello, I’ve been SICK and unable to eat your food!), hoping to talk health as people work, reading/studying, and then there is the almost month-long IST. Oh, and avoiding creepy crawly things…ew.
mercredi 18 juin 2008
Remembering Me
This morning I sat in a cafe near the PC Office and had a cafe au lait (really a latte, but doesn't matter) and a croissant and felt like myself again. It was incredible. So much so that I had to journal a little about it while sitting there, before another Volunteer came to join me for some breakfast and some encouraging words/suggestions for these first awkward months at site. I don't think that I realized how much I would miss sitting and leisurely drinking good coffee until right before I left DC to come here, but I do. It's a part of my own culture, as lame as that sounds, and something very difficult to enjoy in the "comfort" of my hut and village. It was incredible to have a chance to do something I loved doing before I came here and almost (but not quite) feel like myself again, something that is actually much harder to do than one may imagine.
Waking up early and doing it again before heading out of Dakar in the AM.
Waking up early and doing it again before heading out of Dakar in the AM.
New York Times Article on Senegal
Shadows Grow Across One of Africa's Bright Lights By LYDIA POLGREENThe New York TimesJune 18, 2008
DAKAR, Senegal -- From the air, this sprawling city looks like a metropolis on the move, a buzzing quadrilateral jutting into the Atlantic. Cars speed along a supple, newly reconstructed four-lane highway that hugs the rugged coastline. Cranes dot the seaside, building luxury hotels and conference centers, as investors from Dubai revamp the city's port, hoping to transform it into a high-tech regional hub.
But on the ground the picture shifts. Jobless young men line the new highways, trying to scratch out a living by selling phone cards, cashews and Chinese-made calculators to passers-by. The port is full of imported food that is increasingly out of reach for most Senegalese.
Dakar will soon have a glut of five-star hotel rooms, but rising rents have pushed the city's poor and even middle-class residents into filthy, flood-prone slums. Shortages of fuel mean daily blackouts.
It is hard to escape a sense of malaise that has settled over Senegal, one of Africa's most stable and admired countries, a miasma of political, economic and social problems as unmistakable as the fine dust that blows in from the Sahara every winter, blotting out the sun with an ashy haze.
This month the sense of crisis reached a head, when a coalition of political and civic groups began a national conference to reassess the country's direction. The government, seeing it as a provocation, refused to participate.
All of which raises the question: If hardship and tension are vexing Senegal -- a former French colony that has never known a coup d'état or military rule, and for 48 years has been one of the most stable, peaceful and enduring democracies in a region so long beset by tyranny and strife -- what could that mean for its more troubled neighbors?
This question has become all the more pressing with the implosion of Kenya, once East Africa's oasis, into ethnically driven electoral violence earlier this year, and South Africa's recent descent into anti-immigrant rage.
Senegal's chattering class is increasingly worried that the country's long run of relatively good luck could also run out.
"After years of sunshine, we have so many clouds gathering over us in Senegal," said Abdoulaye Bathily, secretary general of Senegal's Movement for the Labor Party, one of the parties that joined with President Abdoulaye Wade's coalition in 2000 but have since broken with him. "We are lost, adrift. And if we can't make it, what country can?"
The political class is in seemingly permanent crisis. The grand coalition of opposition parties that brought Mr. Wade to office in 2000 after 40 years of Socialist rule has collapsed.
Most of the major parties sat out the 2007 legislative elections, so the National Assembly is made up almost exclusively of Mr. Wade's allies.
A series of squabbles within the governing party, along with the widespread speculation that Mr. Wade is grooming his son, Karim, as his successor, have also soured Senegal's longstanding reputation as a beacon of democracy in a region once plagued by authoritarianism.
Mr. Wade, an indefatigable octogenarian who was re-elected last year for a five-year term, has in many ways staked his legacy on the rebirth of Dakar from a quaint colonial city to a major regional center, a kind of mini-Dubai for West Africa. It is the bequest of an aging leader to a new generation of Senegalese, the men and women he calls the Generation of Concrete.
Mr. Wade put his son, a former banking executive in London, in charge of organizing the Islamic Summit, a meeting of heads of state of Muslim countries held here in March. The vast makeover of the city was supposed to be complete beforehand, but while most of the roads were finished, the hotels were not. The government rented private homes and cruise ships to house delegates and members of the news media.
Much of the work was paid for by Islamic donors, not the public, but little accounting has been given for the reconstruction projects.
When the speaker of the National Assembly tried to question the president's son about spending for the summit meeting, the speaker's party leadership position was abolished and the assembly introduced a bill to cut his term to a single year.
He later reconciled with the president, but such scandals have exacted a toll on the country's reputation. Once a darling of international donors, who have spent millions to help Senegal build schools and clinics, pay off its debts and plan infrastructure projects, the country has found itself criticized by representatives of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank over public spending and policies that have worsened the effects of rising food prices.
A study commissioned by the United States Agency for International Development last year concluded that "a lack of transparency in public affairs and financial transactions, as well as chronic corruption, plague Senegal today."
Africa as a whole has been enjoying high economic growth rates, but in 2006 Senegal's economy grew by just over 2 percent. It has rebounded and is expected to reach 5.4 percent this year, but persistent unemployment and high food and fuel prices have blunted the benefits of growth for most people.
Above all, Senegal's people seem to have lost their seemingly endless optimism. A Gallup survey completed here last year found that only 29 percent of respondents said they had a job, down from 35 percent the previous year
Most telling, 56 percent of those surveyed said they would leave Senegal permanently if they could. In recent years, tens of thousands of Senegalese have boarded rickety wooden fishing boats to try to sneak into Europe. Many thousands are believed to have died in these perilous crossings.
This frustration has largely been turned against Mr. Wade, a longtime opposition figure who endured imprisonment and political isolation for decades before bringing his quirky blend of neo-liberal and Afro-optimist ideas to the presidential palace.
To his many fans, Mr. Wade is an updated version of the founding fathers who governed Africa in the years immediately after independence. His age is a closely guarded secret, but he is believed to be 82, which would make him almost old enough to have been a contemporary of Africa's early political giants, like Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana and Julius Nyerere of Tanzania.
El Hadji Amadou Sall, Mr. Wade's spokesman and a senior adviser, says that the government is already spending most of its budget on sectors that directly affect the poor, like health and schools, but that these are less visible than five-star hotels. Mr. Wade has also announced ambitious plans to boost food production.
Some Senegalese are pleased. Paco Demba Dia, a 39-year-old traditional wrestler, said seeing new roads and buildings gives him a sense of pride.
"In all those years, the Socialists never did anything like this for us," he said.
But to his critics, Mr. Wade has sullied Senegal's reputation and has consolidated power within his own family.
The discontent is keenest among young people, and their chosen mouthpieces: rap artists who have become the griots, or musical storytellers, of their generation, providing a soundtrack to their frustrations.
"We've been waiting 40 years for real change in this country," said Didier Awadi, a rapper whose rhymes in the Wolof language demanding change helped steer young people to vote the Socialist Party out of office in 2000. "But we are still waiting."
On one of the many billboards across the city welcoming the attendees of the Islamic Summit meeting, someone scrawled paint over Mr. Wade's face, writing: "We are hungry."
Indeed, many Senegalese wonder whether the money to rebuild the capital was well spent. Amadou Ndiaye, a hawker who sells cheap Chinese-made shoes on the sidewalk, said that little of the new construction will benefit him. He has no car, and the new roads don't go anywhere near his slum home.
"We can't eat roads," Mr. Ndiaye said. "We can't afford to sleep in five-star hotels. So for whom is all this? Not for the ordinary Senegalese man."
DAKAR, Senegal -- From the air, this sprawling city looks like a metropolis on the move, a buzzing quadrilateral jutting into the Atlantic. Cars speed along a supple, newly reconstructed four-lane highway that hugs the rugged coastline. Cranes dot the seaside, building luxury hotels and conference centers, as investors from Dubai revamp the city's port, hoping to transform it into a high-tech regional hub.
But on the ground the picture shifts. Jobless young men line the new highways, trying to scratch out a living by selling phone cards, cashews and Chinese-made calculators to passers-by. The port is full of imported food that is increasingly out of reach for most Senegalese.
Dakar will soon have a glut of five-star hotel rooms, but rising rents have pushed the city's poor and even middle-class residents into filthy, flood-prone slums. Shortages of fuel mean daily blackouts.
It is hard to escape a sense of malaise that has settled over Senegal, one of Africa's most stable and admired countries, a miasma of political, economic and social problems as unmistakable as the fine dust that blows in from the Sahara every winter, blotting out the sun with an ashy haze.
This month the sense of crisis reached a head, when a coalition of political and civic groups began a national conference to reassess the country's direction. The government, seeing it as a provocation, refused to participate.
All of which raises the question: If hardship and tension are vexing Senegal -- a former French colony that has never known a coup d'état or military rule, and for 48 years has been one of the most stable, peaceful and enduring democracies in a region so long beset by tyranny and strife -- what could that mean for its more troubled neighbors?
This question has become all the more pressing with the implosion of Kenya, once East Africa's oasis, into ethnically driven electoral violence earlier this year, and South Africa's recent descent into anti-immigrant rage.
Senegal's chattering class is increasingly worried that the country's long run of relatively good luck could also run out.
"After years of sunshine, we have so many clouds gathering over us in Senegal," said Abdoulaye Bathily, secretary general of Senegal's Movement for the Labor Party, one of the parties that joined with President Abdoulaye Wade's coalition in 2000 but have since broken with him. "We are lost, adrift. And if we can't make it, what country can?"
The political class is in seemingly permanent crisis. The grand coalition of opposition parties that brought Mr. Wade to office in 2000 after 40 years of Socialist rule has collapsed.
Most of the major parties sat out the 2007 legislative elections, so the National Assembly is made up almost exclusively of Mr. Wade's allies.
A series of squabbles within the governing party, along with the widespread speculation that Mr. Wade is grooming his son, Karim, as his successor, have also soured Senegal's longstanding reputation as a beacon of democracy in a region once plagued by authoritarianism.
Mr. Wade, an indefatigable octogenarian who was re-elected last year for a five-year term, has in many ways staked his legacy on the rebirth of Dakar from a quaint colonial city to a major regional center, a kind of mini-Dubai for West Africa. It is the bequest of an aging leader to a new generation of Senegalese, the men and women he calls the Generation of Concrete.
Mr. Wade put his son, a former banking executive in London, in charge of organizing the Islamic Summit, a meeting of heads of state of Muslim countries held here in March. The vast makeover of the city was supposed to be complete beforehand, but while most of the roads were finished, the hotels were not. The government rented private homes and cruise ships to house delegates and members of the news media.
Much of the work was paid for by Islamic donors, not the public, but little accounting has been given for the reconstruction projects.
When the speaker of the National Assembly tried to question the president's son about spending for the summit meeting, the speaker's party leadership position was abolished and the assembly introduced a bill to cut his term to a single year.
He later reconciled with the president, but such scandals have exacted a toll on the country's reputation. Once a darling of international donors, who have spent millions to help Senegal build schools and clinics, pay off its debts and plan infrastructure projects, the country has found itself criticized by representatives of the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank over public spending and policies that have worsened the effects of rising food prices.
A study commissioned by the United States Agency for International Development last year concluded that "a lack of transparency in public affairs and financial transactions, as well as chronic corruption, plague Senegal today."
Africa as a whole has been enjoying high economic growth rates, but in 2006 Senegal's economy grew by just over 2 percent. It has rebounded and is expected to reach 5.4 percent this year, but persistent unemployment and high food and fuel prices have blunted the benefits of growth for most people.
Above all, Senegal's people seem to have lost their seemingly endless optimism. A Gallup survey completed here last year found that only 29 percent of respondents said they had a job, down from 35 percent the previous year
Most telling, 56 percent of those surveyed said they would leave Senegal permanently if they could. In recent years, tens of thousands of Senegalese have boarded rickety wooden fishing boats to try to sneak into Europe. Many thousands are believed to have died in these perilous crossings.
This frustration has largely been turned against Mr. Wade, a longtime opposition figure who endured imprisonment and political isolation for decades before bringing his quirky blend of neo-liberal and Afro-optimist ideas to the presidential palace.
To his many fans, Mr. Wade is an updated version of the founding fathers who governed Africa in the years immediately after independence. His age is a closely guarded secret, but he is believed to be 82, which would make him almost old enough to have been a contemporary of Africa's early political giants, like Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana and Julius Nyerere of Tanzania.
El Hadji Amadou Sall, Mr. Wade's spokesman and a senior adviser, says that the government is already spending most of its budget on sectors that directly affect the poor, like health and schools, but that these are less visible than five-star hotels. Mr. Wade has also announced ambitious plans to boost food production.
Some Senegalese are pleased. Paco Demba Dia, a 39-year-old traditional wrestler, said seeing new roads and buildings gives him a sense of pride.
"In all those years, the Socialists never did anything like this for us," he said.
But to his critics, Mr. Wade has sullied Senegal's reputation and has consolidated power within his own family.
The discontent is keenest among young people, and their chosen mouthpieces: rap artists who have become the griots, or musical storytellers, of their generation, providing a soundtrack to their frustrations.
"We've been waiting 40 years for real change in this country," said Didier Awadi, a rapper whose rhymes in the Wolof language demanding change helped steer young people to vote the Socialist Party out of office in 2000. "But we are still waiting."
On one of the many billboards across the city welcoming the attendees of the Islamic Summit meeting, someone scrawled paint over Mr. Wade's face, writing: "We are hungry."
Indeed, many Senegalese wonder whether the money to rebuild the capital was well spent. Amadou Ndiaye, a hawker who sells cheap Chinese-made shoes on the sidewalk, said that little of the new construction will benefit him. He has no car, and the new roads don't go anywhere near his slum home.
"We can't eat roads," Mr. Ndiaye said. "We can't afford to sleep in five-star hotels. So for whom is all this? Not for the ordinary Senegalese man."
And the Sharet Sage Continues...
or is it charret?
Anyway, got xrays on my jaw...no breaks, fractures, anything. Actually, I almost wish the xrays had found something because then there could be a concrete treatment rather than general pain. Med told me that it will take awhile to heal (did Rose say "maybe years?" I sure hope not and will ask again) and they were going to pick me up some meds to help with the pain, but other than that, I get to continue having random pain while chewing, flossing, yawning, opening my mouth wide, etc, until the pain goes away (and from having to open it so much today with the drs and everything, it's still hurting quite a bit). Hopefully I can go back to talking normally afterwards, bc it was brought to my attention by multiple people that I am not talking normally, but rather with a "closed mouth," and it was very visible to Med (and the xray place) that I can't open my mouth very far. Oh well, here goes...just another adventure to add to my blog.
In other news, I was recruited by a fellow Volunteer in my region to write an article for the quarterly newsletter about the life of a new PCV from the "things NOT to do in the first 3 months at site," including having a 104.3 degree fever the day before Installation, drinking salt water for 3 days straight, and falling off a sharet. I'm taking as many other ideas as possible to add to this so that the article isn't just a biography of my life here already, lol.
Anyway, got xrays on my jaw...no breaks, fractures, anything. Actually, I almost wish the xrays had found something because then there could be a concrete treatment rather than general pain. Med told me that it will take awhile to heal (did Rose say "maybe years?" I sure hope not and will ask again) and they were going to pick me up some meds to help with the pain, but other than that, I get to continue having random pain while chewing, flossing, yawning, opening my mouth wide, etc, until the pain goes away (and from having to open it so much today with the drs and everything, it's still hurting quite a bit). Hopefully I can go back to talking normally afterwards, bc it was brought to my attention by multiple people that I am not talking normally, but rather with a "closed mouth," and it was very visible to Med (and the xray place) that I can't open my mouth very far. Oh well, here goes...just another adventure to add to my blog.
In other news, I was recruited by a fellow Volunteer in my region to write an article for the quarterly newsletter about the life of a new PCV from the "things NOT to do in the first 3 months at site," including having a 104.3 degree fever the day before Installation, drinking salt water for 3 days straight, and falling off a sharet. I'm taking as many other ideas as possible to add to this so that the article isn't just a biography of my life here already, lol.
mardi 17 juin 2008
Overdue Post
So I realized that I haven't actually blogged about my family and living situation at site. I've referenced it and there are multiple letters en route to different people in the States about my family, but nothing for the general B's Blog-Reading Public, if you can call it that.
So basically, my family is gigantic...probably the size of the entire village in reality, plus the surrounding villages due to cousins marrying, etc. However, I don't call them all my family, though in this culture, everyone is your brother, sister, uncle, mom, dad, etc, esp if they share the last name as you and Diouf is a very popular Serere name, so I have a lot of relatives. There are about 50 people who live on my compound, and that's not an exageration. From what I can understand, there are two very old men (each the head of the 2 main large families at the compound, one's my "dad" and the other thinks he's my husband), 2 very old women (one is my "mom" and the other I don't really know where she fits in the picture), 4 babies being breastfed (loose estimates in age: 2 months, 8 months, 11 months, and 15 months), about 20 kids between the ages of 2 and 10, a few early adolescent girls, about 10 guys in their late teens to early 20s, 8 "moms" (ie women of childbearing age with kids ranging from probably 25-35, with one who is probably about 45), an unknown amount of men/husbands (bc some of my "host brothers" have more than one wife and some of the wives also have husbands in Dakar or otherwise away and I haven't met them or figured out which men who are always around actually live at the compound, and maybe a few random other people thrown into the lot. It's a lot of people and means each meal bowl usually has between 8 and 12 people and there are probably about 3 bowls (at least) for each meal for each side of the compound, depending on the time of day and side of the compound.
These "sides" of the compound I'm referring to are the two large families that live at my compound but I haven't yet figured out how they are actually related. One side is the Dioufs (my "real" family) and the other side, technically, are the Gnings--both VERY Serere last names. The families seem to interact well together, based on my current understanding, but I just cannot figure out where the Gnings came from. No clue, but give me some time.
My hut is a 3m x 4m cement room with two doors and no windows. . I’m still working on pimping out my pad, aka hut, and just today I bought fabric to hang from the beams in the roof to bring in color and help keep the dust and debris off me. I also want to paint the inside of it yellow and maybe get some fake flooring, quasi-tacky curtains, and battery-operated wall light…after I get a bed, somewhere to put my clothes, a table, and chair. It’s so overwhelming to even know where to start, not to mention having a limited budget, plus the fact that I need to be discreet about what and when I buy things so that I don’t flaunt the money that I do have
So basically, my family is gigantic...probably the size of the entire village in reality, plus the surrounding villages due to cousins marrying, etc. However, I don't call them all my family, though in this culture, everyone is your brother, sister, uncle, mom, dad, etc, esp if they share the last name as you and Diouf is a very popular Serere name, so I have a lot of relatives. There are about 50 people who live on my compound, and that's not an exageration. From what I can understand, there are two very old men (each the head of the 2 main large families at the compound, one's my "dad" and the other thinks he's my husband), 2 very old women (one is my "mom" and the other I don't really know where she fits in the picture), 4 babies being breastfed (loose estimates in age: 2 months, 8 months, 11 months, and 15 months), about 20 kids between the ages of 2 and 10, a few early adolescent girls, about 10 guys in their late teens to early 20s, 8 "moms" (ie women of childbearing age with kids ranging from probably 25-35, with one who is probably about 45), an unknown amount of men/husbands (bc some of my "host brothers" have more than one wife and some of the wives also have husbands in Dakar or otherwise away and I haven't met them or figured out which men who are always around actually live at the compound, and maybe a few random other people thrown into the lot. It's a lot of people and means each meal bowl usually has between 8 and 12 people and there are probably about 3 bowls (at least) for each meal for each side of the compound, depending on the time of day and side of the compound.
These "sides" of the compound I'm referring to are the two large families that live at my compound but I haven't yet figured out how they are actually related. One side is the Dioufs (my "real" family) and the other side, technically, are the Gnings--both VERY Serere last names. The families seem to interact well together, based on my current understanding, but I just cannot figure out where the Gnings came from. No clue, but give me some time.
My hut is a 3m x 4m cement room with two doors and no windows. . I’m still working on pimping out my pad, aka hut, and just today I bought fabric to hang from the beams in the roof to bring in color and help keep the dust and debris off me. I also want to paint the inside of it yellow and maybe get some fake flooring, quasi-tacky curtains, and battery-operated wall light…after I get a bed, somewhere to put my clothes, a table, and chair. It’s so overwhelming to even know where to start, not to mention having a limited budget, plus the fact that I need to be discreet about what and when I buy things so that I don’t flaunt the money that I do have
Wo, refiro okor es. Jegiim okor. Bugafuliim okor ndiiki.
You, you are not my husband. I don't have a husband. I do not want a husband right now.
I have this conversation multiple times a day with one of the old men at my compound. He calls me Fatou Mae and insists I am his wife. He's probably about 80 and when he calls me Fatou Mae, I call him George and remind him he's not my husband. Two days ago he insisted that my parents wrote him a letter saying "Khady Diouf is married to Momadou Ning." Yea, right...
It's hard to really tell how much my language is improving when I feel like I always have the same stagnant convos with people, about my husband, the fact I didn't eat enough (by Senegalese crazy standards), the names of animals, my husband, names of random objects, my husband, money money money, and my husband. I can understand a lot more, like if people are talking about me to each other (like saying what I said or whatever) or just generally talking, I can follow it a lot better. However, I feel like my own speaking abilities aren't necessarily improving as fast, such as vocab, grammar, or ability to ask questions. Odang odang...
Anyway, the past almost two weeks at site have been the longest I've been without having to go to Kaolack or otherwise stay away from my village overnight and it almost drove me crazy, for the good and bad. The past two weeks have seen many important events, such as:
1. My first village weddings (right after each other): ie creating even more of a reputation in my area for my dancing abilities. "Khady Diouf a wagaa o mbec!" aka Khady Diouf can dance
2. First trip to the Post Office, which also convinced me that I need to open a new PC post box in a different town that is just slightly easier to get to, though without good lunches and internet. That will probably come in September or October.
3. My first flat tire...haven't yet fixed it, but it happened 2km from my village and I wheeled it all of the way home
4. The possible start to the rainy season, in the form of a dust storm followed by rain. Oh yea, right after I hung my laundry up to dry....needless to say, I redid my laundry the next day
5. The discovery that the teachers are really cool and I think I'm going to try and work with them a lot. That, and they make really good lunches, though another Volunteer and I actually cooked for them an American-inspired meal which was awesome as well
6.The kids at my compound now call my "faap otew Khady," which litterally means "dad's woman/wife" but in actuality is the word "Aunt" one would use for his/her dad's sister. Now I'm crazy Aunt Khady it appears. They have also been bolder about coming into my room to see the few pictures that I've successfully hung from the roof beams of my hut, which I'm going to have to keep a tight reign on.
7. Finally having Village Bread and Peanut Butter, something that I've been craving as an alternate to millet and milk for breakfast. I'm soooo glad that I brought that jar of Skippy PB!
8. Being on the verge of losing my mind over crickets in my hut and it still not being totally complete...it was a rough week, I was annoyed, and made sure my counterpart knew I wasn't happy. Hopefully things will be done by my return on Saturday, and done well...b/c the fence pieces hastily installed last week nearly toppled over with the storm this past week. Fab...
9. Seeing people from my Stage again! The Dakar region had a retreat this weekend and so many from my Stage were at the Dakar regional house after so I was reunited with lots of friends, which was SOOO amazing.
10. I slept under a sheet and blanket for the first time since Philly...PC Med Hut has A/C! I slept soooo well!
Okay, that's about it for now. Maybe if the power is working tomorrow night (I'm planning on still being here then, let's be honest...), I'll remember other things that I wanted to blog about.
I have this conversation multiple times a day with one of the old men at my compound. He calls me Fatou Mae and insists I am his wife. He's probably about 80 and when he calls me Fatou Mae, I call him George and remind him he's not my husband. Two days ago he insisted that my parents wrote him a letter saying "Khady Diouf is married to Momadou Ning." Yea, right...
It's hard to really tell how much my language is improving when I feel like I always have the same stagnant convos with people, about my husband, the fact I didn't eat enough (by Senegalese crazy standards), the names of animals, my husband, names of random objects, my husband, money money money, and my husband. I can understand a lot more, like if people are talking about me to each other (like saying what I said or whatever) or just generally talking, I can follow it a lot better. However, I feel like my own speaking abilities aren't necessarily improving as fast, such as vocab, grammar, or ability to ask questions. Odang odang...
Anyway, the past almost two weeks at site have been the longest I've been without having to go to Kaolack or otherwise stay away from my village overnight and it almost drove me crazy, for the good and bad. The past two weeks have seen many important events, such as:
1. My first village weddings (right after each other): ie creating even more of a reputation in my area for my dancing abilities. "Khady Diouf a wagaa o mbec!" aka Khady Diouf can dance
2. First trip to the Post Office, which also convinced me that I need to open a new PC post box in a different town that is just slightly easier to get to, though without good lunches and internet. That will probably come in September or October.
3. My first flat tire...haven't yet fixed it, but it happened 2km from my village and I wheeled it all of the way home
4. The possible start to the rainy season, in the form of a dust storm followed by rain. Oh yea, right after I hung my laundry up to dry....needless to say, I redid my laundry the next day
5. The discovery that the teachers are really cool and I think I'm going to try and work with them a lot. That, and they make really good lunches, though another Volunteer and I actually cooked for them an American-inspired meal which was awesome as well
6.The kids at my compound now call my "faap otew Khady," which litterally means "dad's woman/wife" but in actuality is the word "Aunt" one would use for his/her dad's sister. Now I'm crazy Aunt Khady it appears. They have also been bolder about coming into my room to see the few pictures that I've successfully hung from the roof beams of my hut, which I'm going to have to keep a tight reign on.
7. Finally having Village Bread and Peanut Butter, something that I've been craving as an alternate to millet and milk for breakfast. I'm soooo glad that I brought that jar of Skippy PB!
8. Being on the verge of losing my mind over crickets in my hut and it still not being totally complete...it was a rough week, I was annoyed, and made sure my counterpart knew I wasn't happy. Hopefully things will be done by my return on Saturday, and done well...b/c the fence pieces hastily installed last week nearly toppled over with the storm this past week. Fab...
9. Seeing people from my Stage again! The Dakar region had a retreat this weekend and so many from my Stage were at the Dakar regional house after so I was reunited with lots of friends, which was SOOO amazing.
10. I slept under a sheet and blanket for the first time since Philly...PC Med Hut has A/C! I slept soooo well!
Okay, that's about it for now. Maybe if the power is working tomorrow night (I'm planning on still being here then, let's be honest...), I'll remember other things that I wanted to blog about.
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