Tamba Nation and the Talibé

Last week I ventured to “Tamba Nation”, the self-titled hub for volunteers who live in and around the Tambacounda region in SE Senegal.  The purpose of my visit was two-fold:  1) to teach a beekeeping class for volunteers who are interested in getting involved with beekeepers in the area, and 2) to attend “Tambathon – A Race for Education” organized by the regional volunteers to raise money to encourage girls to stay in school.  Unexpectedly, my visit served a third purpose which was to really open my eyes to the issue of the Talibé and bring a new perspective to this group of unfortunate kids.

Tambacounda is about 5-6 hours from Diourbel, depending on the road conditions and what type of vehicle you get in, but I was able to catch a ride down in a Peace Corps car which always shaves off a little time and is exponentially more comfortable than local transport.  Like Diourbel, Tamba is hot and dry this time of year with daytime temperatures over 100 degrees and nights in the balmy 70s, but the HOT season is just beginning. Over the next month or so, the thermometer will continue to rise to about 120 degrees in the day and will only drop to the 90s at night.  It will stay like this until the rainy season comes again in July, so basically, until I leave.  This is the time of year when your skin gets very dry, your heels begin to crack, your nasal passages are crusted with rock-like formations and are prone to bleeding for no reason, and when we all start sleeping outside in tents because our cinderblock rooms or thatched huts we live in become unbearable.

My boss, Amar Sall, accompanied me on this trip and helped to organize the logistics for the 3-hour introductory beekeeping class that my friend Jerry, the visiting beekeeper, helped me put together while he was visiting in January.  Fifteen volunteers participated, learning the basics of the honeybee lifecycle and social order, the history of beekeeping, the different types of hives used in the area, and the process for how to harvest honey.  It was fun to pass along this knowledge to a group of young people who are enthused about this nerdy hobby of mine.  The following day, Amar took a handful of us out to a beekeeping cooperative about 45 minutes SE of the city.  There we met with some folks who run a “miellerie” or honey-harvesting center that supports the beekeepers in the area.  Tamba’s terrain is much more conducive to beekeeping (more trees and natural vegetation, as well as a large water source), so there are quite a few beekeepers in the area.  This association works with 35 beekeepers that use both traditional hives and Kenya Top Bar hives.  Traditional hives are made of reed or millet stalks bound together and rolled into a cylindrical log and capped at both ends with round pieces of wood each containing a small entrance hole.  This type of beekeeping has been practiced in Africa thousands of years and is quite effective here.  Kenyan Top Bar hives were introduced more recently from East Africa and allow for more manipulation within the hive and higher honey productions.  Both versions require that you destroy comb when harvesting honey, but at least they’re moving in the right direction, by adopting more modern equipment.  What they’re doing is also very measurable; they know how many beekeepers are in the area, how many of each kind of hive they have, and how much honey is being produced from the hives.  We were so impressed with the coordinated effort of this cooperative that Amar and I have decided to apply for a food security grant to help them expand their operation.  One of my class participants approached me when returned from this visit to say that she wants to extend her service for a a 3rd year to focus on beekeeping efforts, so all of the pieces are beginning to fall into place.  Since I had hoped to be involved in Senegalese beekeeping since my arrival, I’m glad that this project has finally taken shape and will live on after my service.  It’s all about sustainability, right?

Honey filtration system

Traditional grass hive

Kenya Top Bar hive

Steam-based honey extractor

Association label

Local honey label

Honey refractor

Cashew tree

Cashew fruit

Honey bee on cashew tree flower

On our way back to Tamba, the group asked Amar to stop at one of the campements (rustic campground resorts) situated on the bank of The Gambia River that's known to be frequented by hippos.  Luckily for us, there were two hanging out there that day but, because it was midday and hot, they mostly stayed below the surface of the water.  We’d occasionally see their heads bob up to breathe and even heard them neigh, which is why, I suppose, they call them the “river horses”.  Hippos in the wild--what an amazing sight to see!

The Gambia River

Look closely, that's a hippo head (facing the bank)

Twenty-five Volunteers call the Tamba Nation and its’ regional house their home-away-from-home.  Many of the volunteers in this region live out in villages and bike into the city to enjoy electricity, running water, and the camaraderie of their friends from time to time.  A few of them actually live in the city in small apartments or with host-families, including my friend Jamie who let me sleep on her roof while I was there. Hanging out with this tight-knit group made me made me realize what a different Peace Corps experience they are having from me.  My site is located pretty far away from other volunteers and my “regional house” is the Dakar transit house, located 3 hours away from my site. Our transit house is a place where volunteers from all over West Africa come and go on their way in and out of the city and most of the Senegalese volunteers, like me, that are assigned there live at least a couple of hours away by car.  There is definitely a family feel about the clustering of volunteers in other regions and they seem to be involved in a lot more group projects.  I’ve seen this on my trips to the Kaolack regional house, as well.  When it comes right down to it, I suppose we all leave here with a different perspective on our service, but somehow because of my location and maybe, at times, because of my age, my service seems a bit more solitary than most.

Another difference I noticed when visiting the Tamba region is the effect the surrounding ethnic group has on the culture.  Tambacoundans are mostly Pulaars.  They have their own language, which is a bit more sing-songy than Wolof and their interactions are much less aggressive.  Walking down the street in Tambacounda was a markedly different experience than walking down the street in Diourbel.  I felt much more welcomed. 

Board games!  That's Jamie, my host, on the right.

Tamba Nation regional house

The boys did their "Warblers" routine for me.

This friendly Pulaar woman "took a picture" of me with her purse.

The most recent group project that the Tamba Nation coordinated was a Race for Education, a 5k-10K-1/2 Marathon event that raised about $3000 for girls’ education.  I’ve been calling it the "Tambathon" all week.  At some point, I considered running the 5K and, in retrospect, kind of wish that I had since we had a fairly cool morning.  I was happy enough, however, to be down there cheering on those that did and capturing the experience in photos.  In addition to the many volunteers that made the trip to Tamba to run this race, many local kids and school and government officials participated. The local army post and fire department also had an impressive showing.  Djiby Sow, a runner from Dakar who has run marathons all over the world, traveled 10 hours to join us and made a monetary contribution to the cause. He was quite personable and even came with a personal manager, which seemed to elevate his celebrity status and make us all wish that we traveled with personal managers.  He was all muscles and legs and ran the ½ marathon in 1hr 14min.  My friend Richard Ross, who admittedly has a little less leg and a little less muscle, became a celebrity in his own right by “joggling” the entire way and being the first volunteer to finish the ½ marathon. 

Girls getting ready for the 5K

And, they're off!

Djiby Sow easing across the finish line

The Djiby Sow fan club

Joggling to the finish line

Unfortunately, Richard’s excitement for the event was somewhat marred at the end of the race when he crossed the finish line and was immediately approached by a group of Talibé kids asking for alms.  Richard is affectionately known among his Peace Corps friends and family as “the Talibé Whisperer.”  He’s spent much of his 3-yr service working with this group of young boys who are forced to beg on the streets as part of their Koranic education.  “Talibé” translates to “disciple” and is the term used to describe boys who are sent by their families to live in daaras (usually located in run-down buildings) with local marabouts to learn the lessons of the Koran.  They spend hours memorizing and reciting Arabic chants and the rest of their time begging on the streets, collecting money for the marabouts and finding their own food.  In general, they are not well-cared for, and are usually unbathed and wearing raggedy clothing.  Images of Fagin and his group of street kids from “Oliver Twist” often come to mind when I observe the Talibé and their marabouts.  This group of kids is the focus of concern for many NGOs, including World Vision and Human RightsWatch (click on the hyperlinks if you're interested in more info).  They are prevalent throughout the country and even in my neighborhood most families have a Talibé child who comes on a daily basis to pick up a bowl of rice at lunchtime. This is likely the only food they eat all day.  Richard lives in St. Louis and started a garden project there to teach them to grow some of their own food.  He’s also met with the US Ambassador and leaders of aid groups to discuss possible solutions to assist these boys, and has organized an upcoming soccer tournament that will not only give them the opportunity to participate in a group sporting event and have social interaction, but will raise money to help ensure their well-being.

Talibé watching the race

This kid climbed up to join me

Looking for water

Shoo-ing away the Talibé

Talibé with their signature bowls

I’ve wanted to write about the Talibé for a long time but, for many reasons that are hard to explain, the topic is a difficult one to summarize.  Who knew that the Tambathon would provide me with the motivation to bring this issue to the forefront?  The juxtaposition of a group of well-intentioned volunteers and community leaders that came together to raise money and awareness for one group of kids (girls who want to stay in school), while at the same time excluding another (the Talibé) by shoo-ing them away from the event was shockingly evident to those of us who weren’t too busy dealing with the race logistics to notice.   At the end of the race large groups of these dirty, thirsty, hungry, young boys crowded around us asking for t-shirts, water, and bean sandwiches, but we had no system to deal with it.  These were for the runners, which made sense, as the project had been well-planned to provide for those who were participating in the race.  Group dynamics quickly came into play and volunteers and staff (the “haves”) huddled around the supplies to protect them from the grabbing hands of the Talibé (the “have-nots”).  Yes, even I was guilty of this. Watching this scene play out through my camera lens really made me pause and reflect.  How have I treated the Talibé on a daily basis?  How are they different from the neighborhood kids who ask me for xaalis (money) on a daily basis, yet have families that care for them and beds to sleep in every night?  What could I have done during my service to make a difference in these kids’ lives?  Maybe it’s because I spent several days hanging out with Richard after this event, but this issue really started to get under my skin.  My service is coming to a close in a few months, so it’s not realistic to think that I’m going to take on a Talibé project that will have any real effect, but I have started to implement a simple approach that someone suggested will make a difference--stopping to greet the boys when I see them and just simply asking them their names.  This brief interaction can have a significant effect on them psychologically and validates them as people, not just beggars.  This is something I can and will do.

This little boy's name is Abdou

Wait...This Is Beginning To Feel Like a Real Job

It’s been 2 months since my last blog entry and I've been on-the-go the entire time.  They say that your project work picks up after the first year of Peace Corps service, and apparently “they” know what they’re talking about.  This is beginning to feel like a real job all of a sudden!

Before the rush began, I took my second vacation of the year and spent 3 weeks back in the states visiting with friends and family and enjoying the splendors of autumn in Virginia.  Although I wasn’t able to catch up with everyone I’d hoped to, I did see quite a few people and many a four-legged friend.  Being home wasn’t as overwhelming as my trip to Europe this past summer.  I’d already experienced the shock of the modern world and my mind was no longer making comparisons with everything I saw.  In fact, it was more like I’d landed on a different planet, Planet America, and therefore I didn’t expect for things to be the same.  I did have a few first impressions, though.  It seems I’ve spent the better part of a year telling Senegalese folks who are enthralled with the idea of the U.S. that America is not really like it appears on T.V.  After having been back just a day, I realized that, well, it actually kind of is--clean, pretty, organized, and filled with things that cost a lot of money.  I guess I’ll have to change my tune on this and just accept it for what it is.  The other things that caught my eye were the little trends that had popped up since I’ve been gone.  Everywhere I looked there was Greek yogurt, scan squares, Angry Birds, and eyebrow threading.  Odd, what catches on so quickly.  Other than that, home was pretty much like I left it.  I filled my days sightseeing, walking in the woods, enjoying the company of friends and family, hanging with my dog, attending a film festival, eating good food, sipping tea, drinking good coffee, and appreciating fine libations.  I overextended myself a bit with all of the socializing I tried to fit in, so by the time I left I was fighting a cold and cough, but it was totally worth it.  How often to you get to be a vacationing visitor in your own home-town?  Click on this photo to open an album with pictures from my trip.

My Love Affair with America

Special thanks go out to the many friends and family who hosted me while I was back.  It was a bit strange not to have a home to return to, but the hospitality extended to me was grand and I was happy to see that my renters are taking great care of my house in Batesville.  Also, a big “merci” goes out to The Peabody School for holding an assembly so I could tell them all about my adventures in the Peace Corps.  After the assembly, I spent an hour with the kids from the French classes with whom I’ve been corresponding and it was really great to meet them in person.  Then there are folks who came to the Cider Dinner at my friend Kevin’s house, who were gracious enough to donate almost $800 to my “Bringing Books to Senegal” campaign.  This is a project I was working on with a group of volunteers in Senegal.  We were teaming up with the non-profit organization, Books for Africa,to raise funds to bring over 22,000 local language books and text books to local libraries and schools Senegal.  Unfortunately, I just found out this week, that the campaign has been cancelled, as the request for funds has exceeded the time limit allotted.  Never fear, the $4,400 already donated to this project will be diverted to the Peace Corps Marathon fundraiser whose proceeds will be going to a scholarship program for middle school girls.  I’ve been involved with this scholarship program for some time and, in fact, some of the recipients of this year’s scholarships are the ones who attended our Girls Leadership Camp in September.  Click here for a clever video clip promoting the Peace Corps Race for Education Marathon.   Although I'm not planning to train for this race (are you kidding me?!?!--I struggled to train for a 5K while I was home and this is taking place in Sub-Saharan Africa!), I do plan to go down to cheer on those brave souls who will be running and make sure everyone stays hydrated.

On 11-11-11, just a couple of days after returning to Senegal, I organized a World Hoop Day celebration to spread my joy of wiggling and giggling (aka hoop dancing) with the people in my community.  World Hoop Day is a non-profitorganization based in the U.S. that granted me funds to make a slew of hoops for the kids of Diourbel.  I teamed up with my friend Nar Dieng, who heads a roller-blading association, to put on a grand spectacle for the kids.  A local youth center donated the space and Nar and his friends helped me make and decorate 50 new hoops for this event.  A couple of Peace Corps Volunteers from neighboring villages came in for the day to help me out and several school officials came to partake in the festivities.  We had well over 70 kids join us for an afternoon of hooping and roller-blading.  The local radio station even covered the event in their evening broadcast.  Aside from the usual annoyances, like having to transport chairs and hoops on the back of a horse-drawn cart, people showing up late, and a sound system that was many decibels too loud, everything came together and it was a fun-filled afternoon. Click on the picture below to open an album of photos from the event.

World Hoop Day

The following week, I gathered a training group in Dakar to conduct another round of Safe Zone Training to discuss gay awareness and sensitivity with our local Peace Corps staff.  This was our third round of training and was, again, well-received.  This always provokes lots of discussion and controversy, but that’s why we put it together in the first place. We give the staff a safe place to talk about these issues and to better understand how to support homosexual volunteers who are serving in a country where homosexual acts are treated as both immoral and illegal.  During this session, one of the staff members shared with us her concerns about an Islamic belief that if you touch a homosexual, even a casual touch upon the arm, then your prayers will not count for 40 days.  Since Muslims pray 5 times a day, that’s 200 prayers down the drain.  She understood that she has a professional obligation to interact with homosexual volunteers, but wanted to make it clear to us that she was uncomfortable with this.  Fair enough—we weren’t there to change their opinions, just broaden their understanding and hopefully identify some folks who could step up to provide support.  Regardless, it was hard to hear.  Soon after this discussion, however, one of our openly gay volunteers returned a pen to another participant and to thank him for remembering to give it back, she hugged him.  Yes, right there in front of Allah and everybody, with 200 prayers in jeopardy, she hugged him. It was beautiful.

The next week I returned to Dakar to attend a Thanksgiving feast at the home of the new Ambassador and his wife, Lewis and Lucy Lukens.  They arrived in Senegal in August and were brave enough to follow in the tradition of previous ambassadors and invite the Peace Corps Volunteers over to their house to celebrate the holiday. I say brave, because letting a group of mostly 20-somethings who’ve been living meager lives subsisting on rice and millet for many months around unlimited amounts of good food and wine can be a scary sight.  Many volunteers chose to stay in their respective regions, hosting smaller gatherings at regional houses, but there were still over 100 volunteers who signed up for the pot luck in Dakar.  In addition, 30 or so embassy employees joined us, so it was quite an impressive gathering (that’s a lot of toubabs) and the food was amazing.

Stanzi rolling out pie dough with a beer bottle--classic Peace Corps ingenuity!

An impressive variety of foods at the pot luck

One of the MANY long tables set up for the event.

So I over-indulged a little!

The Tivaouane gang had a Thanksgiving reunion of sorts.
Phil, Kelsey, April, and Chris

The following day, a small group of volunteers hosted a Black Friday Art Expo in Dakar.  I brought two artisans from Diourbel: Mamadou, who I’ve introduced before, and Dibor, a new tailor with whom I’m working.  She and I designed some satchels and bags made from recycled rice sacks and these sold really well.  I also worked with her to create some other new items that we thought would interest the ex-pat community of Dakar.  She made placemat and napkin sets, adjustable aprons, and wrap-pants.  Dibor sold so many things the first day of the Expo that she stayed up late at her sewing machine that night to replenish her stocks.  In the first two days of the sale, she netted well over $200, which in an economy where people survive on less than $1/day, is pretty substantial.  Her husband called me later that week to thank me personally.

Dibor at the Art Expo

Dibor's rice sack bags

Mamadou and his friend Matar

Hanging with my artisans

Khady returned to France at the end of November and won’t return to Senegal until after my service has ended.  I’m going to miss having her around, although it will be nice for Ibou and me to have the compound back to ourselves.  This time around we’re not exactly alone though.  We now have a young French volunteer named Anna who has just started working with us.  She arrived in Senegal a few weeks ago and will likely stay for the three months that her visa will allow.  So far, she’s settling in and getting used to the heat, culture, and language.  That’s a lot to come at you at once, I know.  Soon, she’ll be helping us with our Eco-Ecole program and our village garden projects.  Although she doesn’t speak a lick of English and my ears strain to understand her accent (so different for the African French accent), it’s nice to have another toubab around.  Her arrival was also a good excuse not to return to eating lunches with the family across the street.  As much as I enjoyed their company, I’m happy not to be forced to eat my weight in rice every day.

Another welcome change that’s occurred since my return from the States is that we’ve had over 2 straight months without any electricity outages to speak of.  I’m not sure I’ve ever had two straight days prior to this.  Not sure what’s afoot, but the upcoming election surely plays a part in this.  Unfortunately, now that I have reliable power, my internet service has been on the fritz, working only periodically. This has been annoying and disruptive for me, but knowing that the majority of Peace Corps Volunteers in Senegal (or around the world) don’t have the luxury of WiFi, I really shouldn’t complain.

The first weekend in December, a reporter from Voice of America came out to Diourbel to do a story on our paper briquette press project.  She attended our Saturday morning Eco-Ecole and interviewed some of the kids and school directors.  She was impressed with our little compound oasis and the projects that we’re working on. Here is a link to the radio transcript. 

Last week, my friends Andrew and CJ came up from Kaolack to conduct a training seminar about the wonders of the Moringa tree.  My neighbor Stanzi came from Bambey, as well.  The first day we brought several people in from neighboring villages for a train-the-trainer session, teaching them how to best grow and cultivate it, the nutritional value of its leaves, and how to incorporate them into their diet.  The next two days were spent in the villages repeating these same lessons, but with the help of the participants from the first day.  The information was well-received and each village now has a small Moringa nursery to tend to.  I’ll be following up with them in late January to see how things are going.  Click on the photo below to open an album of our Gardens of Moringa Training.

Gardens of Moringa Training

Here's a special bonus--a short video of the women of Khokhe who broke out into song and dance while pounding moringa leaves.

Moringa Powder Song & Dance

And finally, last week marked another milestone for me; I turned 44.  To celebrate, I traveled to Thiès to join a few friends for lunch and then went on a little shopping spree to replenish my cupboards.  As a special treat, I bought myself a bottle of Scotch, a frying pan, a can of artichoke hearts, a hand-blender for making soups and smoothies. That alone equaled half of my monthly living allowance—but, heh, I’m worth it, right?!  All in all it was a good day and it was so nice to hear from so many of you.

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas.  May Santa's sleigh be filled with sacks of rice and boxes of live chickens!

I shared my ride into Thies with a box full of chickens

Ice Cream - Yum!

Joyeux Noel