The Bittersweet End - Closing out my Peace Corps Service

Sitting down to write this last story about wrapping up my service in Senegal was hard for many reasons.  Primarily, my last few weeks at site were busy with tying up loose ends, packing and giving away a bunch of stuff I’d accumulated, introducing my replacement to his new home and projects, and making my rounds to say goodbye.  That was followed by a week in Dakar doing all of the administrative things necessary to end a government job.  Six other volunteers were doing this at the same time and a handful of others came in to bid us farewell, so there have been a plethora of social activities this week as well.  Unfortunately, all of this running around and communal living has taken its toll, so I’ll be boarding my flight this evening with a lovely chest cold, as well as several other minor bacterial infections that were identified in my last medical exam.   I consider this nice little going away present.  Merci, Senegal.  Things could be worse; there’s a letter I’m bringing to my doctor back home that was included with all of the final paperwork I received from Peace Corps that outlines of all of the nasty things that I could have caught while here.  Oh joy!  Let’s all cross our collective fingers in hopes that none of these pop up after my return.

If the volunteer should present herself for treatment, please be aware that the following diseases are endemic in Senegal:

·         Malaria-falciparum, ovale, vivax

·         Tropical eosinophilia

·         Infectious hepatitis

·         Intestinal parasites (such as Shistosoma, hematobium and S. mansoni, Ancylostoma, Stongyloma, Ascaris, Trichiura, Taenia, Entamoeba, Histolytica, Giardia lamblia)

·         Tuberculosis

·         Yaws

·         Leprosy

·         Typhoid Fever

·         Poliomyelitis

·         Yellow Fever, Dengue Fever, and other Arbovirus diseases

Blister beetle burns - ouch!

Infections aside, as I look back on my two years of service, I'm happy with my accomplishments.  I’ve done work that I can be proud of, left a lasting impression on many people, and experienced remarkable personal growth.  Some amazing people have entered my life and many existing relationships have been strengthened.  My ability to stay connected while I was here was an unexpected blessing and I am thankful to have received so much support and encouragement during this journey.

Baol Environment board members wishing me farewell

Leaving site was a bit more difficult than I had imagined.  Three months ago, when we had our official Close of Service conference, I felt like I already had one foot out the door.  I’d been researching housing, school, and work options back home and I was mentally ready to leave.  As the time drew nearer, however, I really started to drag my feet.  Uprooting your life is never easy, even if you know you're going home.  Luckily, I was involved with training the new group of volunteers who will be replacing many of us at our sites and this kept me busy until the very last week.  During this time, my neighbors and friends stopped by to say goodbye which often turned into lengthy visits.  Some of my favorite students, who didn’t want our lessons to end, made frequent appearances just to hang out.  Packing was a production, mostly because I left a lot of things behind and these had to be distributed with great care so that no one felt left out.  I ended up giving all of the clothes I left behind to the family that I’d eaten lunch with my first year in Diourbel.  I felt a tad guilty, as I didn’t have any clothes for the many boys in the family, but that guilt soon passed when I saw one of their teenage sons walking down the street in my purple cargo pants.  I wish I’d taken a picture because they looked really cute on him.

Marame Gueye sorting through my clothes

Last photo-op with Ibou

Last Friday, I joined a group of friends at a local bar near the University of Dakar to watch the Opening Ceremony of the Olympics.  I come from a family of non-sporty types who can go two years without watching any sports on TV, but when it comes to the Olympics, we're glued to the tube. I was really excited to be in the capital this last week so I could see some of the coverage.  It was fun to sit amongst such an international crowd, especially during the parade of athletes.  People cheered for all of the West African nations but when the Senegal team hit the track in their bright yellow boubous, the place erupted with excitement.  The same held true when the U.S. team entered the scene.  This camaraderie bring people together in a way that you only see when living abroad. Within our Peace Corps community, we have many people with allegiances to other countries and/or dual citizenship, so there was a rolling celebration as the teams rounded the track.

Team Senegal hits the track

Alex cheers for her homeland - Poland

The Opening Ceremonies

Team USA

I’m looking forward to spending some quality face time with friends and family over the next few months as I settle back into the swing of things.  Hopefully no one in the fast lane will run me over before I get a chance to acclimate to the speed of America.  After a week in the DC area, I’ll be returning to Charlottesville to begin anew.  I’ve rented a cute little house downtown and have enrolled in a Non-Profit Management certificate program at UVA.  I’m excited to get involved with many of the socially conscious organizations that have sprung up in Charlottesville since I left in 2010, most notably The CvilleTime Bank and the Charlottesville Cash Mob.  I’m also looking forward to joining the board of Better World Betty, a non-profit organization that serves as a resource for sustainable living.  We'll be working together to review and refine their mission, goals, and projects  There’s a lot of good stuff happening back home and Charlottesville is filled with some amazing people!

Speaking of amazing people, my friends at Brothers Cycling for the World who helped fund a village garden project that I worked on with Baol Environment have recently posted an article I wrote on their website:  http://brotherscycling.com/web/2012/06/celebrating-world-environment-day-baol-environment/

So, in less than 12 hours I'll be boarding my plane to fly home.  I leave behind many friends and co-workers who I'll miss dearly, but I have faith that many of our paths will cross again.  I take with me a belief that one person can make difference in the lives of others and a new-found courage that will make entering this next phase of life a little easier.

BAM!

Throwing Yourself Out There

Joining the Peace Corps at age 42 was not something I did on a whim, in fact there’s not much I do that doesn’t involve a lot of planning.  The Peace Corps is something I’d thought about since I was a young kid, but it never seemed to to be a good fit.  I first wanted to join in the early ‘70s after my Godmother and her family returned from their service in Kenya.  Unfortunately, I was only 6 or 7 at the time and there was this annoying age requirement that I didn’t quite meet.  Right after college, when most people entertain the idea, I was preoccupied with health issues that required serious medical attention.  Moving to a developing country was just not an option, so I didn’t even consider it.  When my health improved in my mid-twenties, I soon found myself with both a career and a family.  We lived in an idyllic setting, in the country surrounded by close friends.  Life was good; joining the Peace Corps was far from my mind.  But then, in the spring of 2005, I had one of those horrifying moments that one hopes are only reserved for fictional characters in heart-wrenching movies.  My husband came home from a weekend away and told me that he was leaving me for another woman.  This kind of news changes your world and my life inevitably took a dramatic turn.  The ensuing details are irrelevant at this point, but that single moment in time became a catalyst for several years of change, and that change has been rather remarkable.

The insecurities that surfaced after my marriage dissolved wreaked havoc with my emotions for a while.  It took some time, but I learned to embrace my newfound feelings of up-rootedness and to appreciate them for the new opportunities they had to offer. In sorting through how to start my life over again I learned to take chances.  I quit my job, found interesting work that I really cared about, and even let myself love again.  These were huge steps for me.  I was out of my comfort zone and, amazingly, instead of being frightened about my future, I began to feel enlivened and hopeful.  A new chapter was unfolding. The thing with taking chances, however, is that they don’t always work out.  Because my new relationship and job were intertwined, when one failed to thrive, so did the other and I found myself at a crossroads once again.

It was at this intersection that I thought long and hard about opportunities that had passed me by and the possibility of joining the Peace Corps rose to the surface once again.  Why not take the road not taken?  My health had been good for years, I was debt-free, and, clearly, I was in career and life transitions.  So, I took a chance and began the year-long process of applying for the Peace Corps.  To my delight, they accepted me and, in August 2010, I got on a plane to Senegal with 60 other soon-to-be volunteers and threw myself out into the world once again. I am emotionally stronger than when I arrived, more confident, and brimming with perspective about the world around me.  I’ve done more “living” in the past 7 years than I’d ever thought possible and I attribute that to deviating from my well-planned path.  Sometimes, life's detours are a blessing in disguise.

The Peace Corps experience has been challenging on many levels, but one of the things I’ve learned to appreciate from it the most is the clean slate it provided me.  Living and working in a community and culture that has very little resemblance to the life I’ve always known has been both difficult and liberating.  I can no longer measure my successes and failures on cultural norms.  Because of that, my self-doubt has dissipated and I’ve learned to venture forth without impeding my path with judgment.   How else would I be able to stand up in front of a classroom of teenagers and teach business skills in a language foreign to all of us, hold court with a village chief to discuss the opportunities available to his community, or lead our region's new governor in a tour of our compound and scholastic program?   This newfound confidence is a gift that I will treasure and happily take with me when I leave. 

A few weeks ago, my friend Philippa read through my recent blog posts and then sent me a long catch-up email.  Aside from filling me in on what’s been happening in her life lately, she complimented me on a little story I’d posted back in April and suggested I submit it to The Guardian newspaper in London, where she and I met years ago.  They run a weekly column featuring stories from around the world.  I thought, “Sure, what do I have to lose?” I did a little editing and sent it in the next day.  Within a week, I got notification that not only do they want to publish it; they want to pay me for it.  Alhamdulillah!  See?  Taking chances opens new doors.  Life’s lessons are already paying off.  

Here’s a link to the on-line edition:  http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/series/letter-from.  This will also run in the paper's print version on Friday, June 8^th.  Perhaps the Queen will take a break from her Diamond Jubilee celebration and give it a read?

I’ve seen changes in other people with whom I’m serving, as well.   No doubt about it, this experience will change you. The majority of the other volunteers here are much younger than me, but in reality we’re all just a mixed bag of people and we’re all in this together.   We’ve experienced similar hardships and challenges and we’ve bonded over our shared commitment.  One thing that we now all have in common is a desire to explore the world, take chances, and throw ourselves out there with little fear of failure.  What’s failure anyway, but an opportunity to try again with a different approach?  As we wrap up our service and prepare to leave this country (or not), our plans for the immediate future are as varied as we are.  Some people will be going back to school, others will be traveling, and a handful will be staying here to continue working with the people of Senegal.  I am so impressed with and humbled to be a part of this amazing group of people.  Oh, the places we’ll go.

Aug 2010 Training Stage at our
Close of Service Conference
in Apr 2012 (Dakar)

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

Girls Leadership Camp 2011

The last week in September, I joined 14 other volunteers and 4 Senegalese counterparts at the University of Bambey (just about 25mins from my site) for a Girls Leadership Camp.  Planning for this camp started just a couple of months after we swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers.  It was a project that justified meeting up for group lunches every now and again and was always in the back of our minds until late this summer, when we started working on it full throttle.  Luckily, the group that came before us initiated the camp the year before so there were some good “lessons learned” to consider when planning it.  Not that we didn't leave room to make our own mistakes along the way.  All in all, the camp was a big success and everyone pitched in to educate, motivate, and entertain 52 bright Senegalese teenage girls.

The girls were all recipients of the Michelle Sylvester Scholarship, a Peace Corps-run program that provides tuition, school supply assistance, and mentorship to middle school girls who exhibit academic potential, financial need, and lack of family support.  Throughout the year, many Peace Corps Volunteers work one-on-one with these students and their families to encourage the girls to stay in school.  The literacy rate in Senegal is 52% for males and only 33% for females over the age of 15 and the drop out rate for girls increases dramatically from primary to tertiary education.  
As with most projects in Senegal, you never really know when and if something is going to happen until it actually happens.  The “inchallah mentality” (where people add “God willing” to the end of anything they agree to do) gives an entire society the right to be vague about their commitments.  We’d budgeted for 40 girls to attend and really didn’t know how many would actually join us until the morning of the camp when they met their volunteers to be escorted from their home towns out to Bambey.  Surprisingly, instead of a shortage, we ended up with 12 extra girls, Allhumdalilah (another favorite Senegalese phrase-ender which means, “Thanks be to God”.)

Our week unfolded like this:

Sunday morning, the Volunteers who were not bringing girls prepped the facilities to get ready for the week ahead.  This was originally planned for Saturday afternoon, but we were all delayed due to a couple of big rain storms that came through.   Later in the afternoon, the girls arrived, settled in, made nametags for their doors, ate dinner, and got to know one another while forming teams.  That first evening we discovered that not only was it incredibly hot and humid in Bambey (living so close, this was no shocker to me) but there were no fans and the campus was infested with blister beetles and earwigs that tormented us every evening while seeking the overhead lights when the sun went down.

Monday morning, I led a yoga class to start our day.  This was a lot of fun, but a little intimidating at first because it was such a large group and I had to teach the class in French. Luckily, I had Wolof interpreters when I needed them. The girls were enthusiastic about the practice and seemed to enjoy it, as later evaluations confirmed.  In fact, one girl wrote that here favorite part of the entire camp was doing the Corpse Pose every morning. I’m sure both my yoga friends and my non-yoga friends can appreciate this desire to lay on the floor in complete relaxation all the same.  Each day had a theme and Monday was “Our Health Day”, which started with a lesson on how to make Oral Rehydration Solution (aka homemade Gatorade) and why it’s important to drink it when you exert yourself in the heat.  After that, we had a lesson on the health benefits of Moringa, or in Wolof, Nebedaay (the well-documented “miracle tree”), and after that we used dried Moringa leaves to make beignets (yummy little fried donut balls)—see, anything that can turn a donut into a healthy snack IS a miracle.  A nurse joined the girls in the late afternoon to answer health-related questions ranging from “why don’t men have periods?” to “why do some girls smell like trash?”  Girls will be girls!  Every evening, before sunset, we had some sort of physical activity led by La Rouge, the only male Senegalese counterpart we had at camp.  La Rouge adopted his name to reflect his affiliation with the communist party and we only once caught him proselytizing his political beliefs to the girls. Other than that, he was great with them.  For Monday night’s health activity, I lead “Spa Night” which was a lot of fun.  We made an oatmeal facial scrub and then an egg and lemon face mask.  None of the girls had ever seen oatmeal before and were very curious about it.  It’s available here, but usually only “toubabs” buy it or can afford it, so this was a real treat.  After our facials, we painted our nails, which almost didn’t happen, as we were informed at the last minute by our counterparts that the girls would have to remove any nail polish before their next prayer (and remember, the Senegalese pray 5 times a day.)  I’d only brought enough nail polish remover to correct the mishaps I’d anticipated.  This was certainly a lesson learned.  I can’t believe I’ve lived here a year and didn’t know this already.  Clearly, not all girls follow this rule.  My host mom regularly wears the stuff, but then again, she's "Khady Toubab."  Luckily, we were able to scrounge up enough acetone in the local market to allow those girls who wished to participate to paint and then un-paint their nails.  I’m sure this felt very exciting and decadent to some and probably scandalous to others.  Not all girls participated, so we got out the back-up supply of paper and crayons.  Another obstacle I hadn't anticipated was having to use only our right hands (not including our "dirty" left hands) to wash off our facial products because we were using communal basins. This proved more challenging than you would think.

Tuesday was “Our Environment Day”, which included activities about identifying and defining the various cultural and micro-climate environments that are found in Senegal, creating micro gardens in old tires and in water bottle planters, and an educational scavenger hunt that unintentionally resulted in live animals being carried back in sacks—not our proudest moment--but we did give those teams extra credit for thinking outside the box.  After dinner, the girls put on skits or performed dances that represented the various ethnic groups that make up the Senegalese population.  One thing about this camp that amazed me the most is how quickly the girls took to one another.  They'd come in groups of 3-9, but other than that they didn't know each other beforehand.  They were split up into new groups the first evening and roommates were selected randomly.  Within the first few hours of camp, these girls were happily interacting with each other.  No cliques were formed and they worked together as if they'd always known one another.  I guess that's the result of Senegalese communal living.

Wednesday , on “Our Career Day” we made self-portrait collages that representing what the girls like to do or what they’d like to become.  After that we played a fun game where girls had to take a stand agreeing or disagreeing with a series of statements that started out mundane and increasingly got more substantial (e.g., “Ceebu Jenn (a rice and fish dish) is better than Ceebu Yapp (a rice and meat dish); A woman should not work outside the home; A man has the right to beat his wife; Birth control is only the responsibility of the man, etc..).  This activity generated a lot of discussion as girls were called upon to defend their position, whether they agreed or disagreed with the statement.  After lunch, we invited a panel of professional women to speak with the girls.  I’d been corresponding with Ofeibea Quist-Archten, NPR’s West African correspondent, for many months and both she and I had hoped that she would be able to attend our career panel discussion, but unfortunately, her schedule changed at the last minute and she had to fly from “Daakaaaar” to attend a family event in Ghana.  Despite her absence, and the last minute cancellation of both my host mom AND my neighbor who has also agreed to attend (but of course, carefully added "Inchallah" when agreeing), we ended up having four impressive women on the panel.  The pinnacle of our camp experience occurred when one of the girls stepped outside after hearing the woman from the Helen Keller Foundation speak and started crying because she was so moved by the woman’s talk and hoped to someday grow up to be as inspirational as her.  So, for those of you who helped sponsor our camp, THANK YOU.  We didn’t just use the money we raised to by markers, paints, supplies, and food, we used it to create an environment where young girls could form dreams about their futures.

Thursday was another big day for me.  In addition to my morning yoga class, my friend Kelsey and I lead a session all morning on how to make Neem lotion and Shea Butter lip balm.  Then, we followed that up with a class on Costing.  This was “Our Business Day”.  Teaching business concepts here is always challenging, but I think we got our points across fairly effectively.  I had to leave camp after this session to teach another round of Safe Zone (gay awareness and sensititivy) Training back in Thies, but the rest of the day at camp involved other business related games and marketing exercises.

Friday was “Our Imagination Day” and focused on activities that encouraged creativity.  Some of the other volunteers led the yoga class in the morning and then the girls tie-dyed camp t-shirts, watched a movie about women in Senegal, worked on various other art projects, and practiced for a talent show that was held that final evening.

If the camp could be evaluated by the state of exhaustion we were all in when it was finally done, then I’d have to admit that WE ROCKED!  The girls were amazingly well-behaved, tolerant of the heat and the bugs, and enthusiastic participants in all of our planned activities.  We definitely could not have pulled off the week without the help of our Senegalese counterparts who, hopefully, will come back next year to work with the next set of Volunteers.  Ultimately, as with any good Peace Corps project, we hope that the camp will be a sustainable project and that lasting partnerships are formed.


Click on the photo below to open an album of pictures from the week.

Girls Leadership Camp 2011

She’s Baaack ….and we’re cooking up a storm.

One morning shortly after I returned from vacation, I walked out of my room and found my host mom sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee.  “Surprise!” she said in French before reaching over to give me a kiss on my left, then right, then left cheeks.  Khady Ndiaye, or Khady Ndiaye “Toubab”, as the neighborhood kids call her because she’s more Western than the average Senegalese woman, has come back from France where she works cleaning rooms at a ski school 8 months out of the year.   She superstitious about flying so she comes and goes without any advanced notice.  Khady (pronounced like “hottie” with a guttural H) doesn’t like her job there much, but she gets paid well and, as a result, can afford to own her own house in Senegal.  Ibou and I rent rooms from her and our association offices are located in her compound.  Much of her family lives next door, although her relationship with them is a bit strained so she keeps them at arms-length.  The compounds share a wall which used to have a door leading from one to the other, but after a dispute with her father’s second wife, she bricked it up.  That’s Khady for you!  She’s a force to be reckoned with.  People both love and fear her.  Although she returned unexpectedly in the middle of the night, it didn’t take long for people to realize that she was back.  Within 24 hours, the peace and quiet to which Ibou and I had grown accustomed was gone.  In its place was a flurry of activity as Khady began executing the home improvement plans she’d been envisioning while away.  Gardeners showed up to hack away at or dig up and move the overgrown plants.  Brick layers appeared with pile of sand and bricks to begin paving a terrace outside her living quarters.  Workmen deconstructed a thatched-roof hut over our classroom space so it can be replaced with something more substantial.  Khady is wise with her money and is investing it in her compound as opposed to doling it out to whoever asks for it, which is the more common trait here in Senegal.  She definitely has a good head on her shoulders.

In addition to filling her house with workmen and construction debris, she’s also filled it with friends.  Daily, there are a handful of folks who come by to catch up with her and hang around most of the day.  We all eat lunch together, with 10-12 of us around the bowl, and most of them stay for afternoon tea.  Last week, Khady decided that I need to learn how to cook Senegalese food.  This thought had, of course, already crossed my mind since cooking has always been one of my favorite pastimes, but I hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet. It wasn’t an appealing prospect at my neighbor’s house where I’d been eating lunch since Khady left last December because their “kitchen” is a small hot cinderblock room with soot-stained walls which is shared with a family of mice and about 10,000 flies.  I also, thought that learning to cook here wouldn’t really translate back home because the pots, pans, and “appliances” are so different.  All meals are cooked over a single propane burner or a pile of burning wood (sometimes even“paper briquettes”!), so there is a certain order to how things are cooked (e.g., the fish is fried first, then the oil is used to make a sauce for the stewed vegetables, then the rice is steamed over this mixture, then the veggies are removed, and finally the rice is added to the liquid.)  Even though we have a four-burner stove in the indoor kitchen here, no one ever uses it but me.  This method of cooking outdoors, using one pot, is well-engrained into the fabric of the culture and it’s not going to change anytime soon.

This will soon be a new covered classroom

Khady washing dishes amid the debris

Most of the greenery in our compound got hacked away,
but I suspect with all of our heat and rain, it will be back in no time.

Anyway, I decided to take her up on the offer and have started to prepare some meals under her tutelage.  Had I known how many “toubab points” that would have gotten me earlier on in my service, I would have done it sooner.  The first afternoon, I made a simple tomato sauce to have over the millet couscous that someone brought us from an outlying village.  Couscous is “village food”, you see.  People in the cities eat rice.  This is an unfortunate cultural divide as couscous is made from local millet or corn and is so much more nutritious than the imported white rice that most people I know eat.  My sauce consisted of oil, tomato paste, water, onions, hot peppers, vinegar, potatoes, and spices.  It was far from rocket-science, yet you would have thought I’d just sent a man to the moon by the way people reacted to a “toubab” cooking a Senegalese sauce.  Anyone who heard the tale, which spread like wildfire, came by to ask me about it and giggle.  Maybe this was the other reason I hadn’t been inclined to do this until now--I certainly don’t need any other reasons to stick out around here.  After the success of my couscous sauce, I was next charged with Ceebu Yaap, or Rice with Meat, which is very descriptive of the end product.  You’d never guess that a platter of oily rice with a few morsels of meat in it would take several hours and many steps to make, but it did.  It went something like this:

1. We washed ½ kilo of meat in a basin of water since it spent the morning at the market covered in flies. Remember, a ½ kilo is just over 1 lb (before the fat cooks off) and we were serving this to 12 people—not a lot of meat.
2. Next, Khady and I held onto each piece of meat with our right hands (the “clean” hands), stretching them taut, then I used a dull knife to cut the pieces into smaller pieces.
3. I then chopped 2 onions in the palm of my hand and added this and the meat to an aluminum Dutch oven called a “marmite” with ½ liter of oil and basically deep fat fried these for 15 minutes or so.
4. After the meat and onions were crispy, we added 3 liters of water and, pardon my French, boiled the hell out of it for at least an hour.
5. Meanwhile, with a large wooden mortar and pestle, I pounded away at an onion, many cloves of garlic, a couple of bell peppers, 25 CFA worth of hot peppers (yes, that’s the measurement I was given), black peppercorns, and Maggi and Adji spice packets (aka MSG-laden spice mix).  Pulverizing this into a saucy paste was a good upper arm work out, but you must be careful that the mixture doesn’t splash up and hit you in the eye, which, of course, I was not.
6. Before adding this saucy mixture to the pot, I skimmed off the oil.  At this step I got excited for a minute because most Senegalese dishes are really oily, but then I realized we were going to add the entire ½ liter of oil back in later.
7. Then I rinsed 2 kilos of rice (that’s about 4½ lbs dry weight--a lot of rice) and placed it in a steamer pan over the boiling mixture and covered it, wrapping a long piece of fabric around the two pots to keep in the steam.  This is why we removed the oil, so that the pot would produce a better steam.
8. About a half hour later, when the rice was soft and fluffy, I poured it into the boiling mixture with all of the oil that I’d skimmed off and cooked it until the rice has absorbed all of the liquid.
9. Finally, I transferred the mixture to a large platter, scraping the crunchy rice that was stuck to the bottom of the pot and placing it in the middle as a garnish, and listened to all the oohs and ahhs from our guests as they gobbled up this high-carb, high-fat meal.

Today I helped make"Boulettes" (fish pounded into a paste and then deep-fried and served with a curried tomato sauce over rice.  It was pretty good.  We’re building up to Ceedu Jenn, the national dish of rice, fish, and vegetables, but even though they’ve been impressed with my cooking skills thus far, no one thinks I’m ready for that yet ;-)

Abib eating millet and my couscous sauce the
 next morning for his breakfast.

Making Ceebu Yaap

Three hours later (see I told you there's not much Yaap)

Khady and her bonne (maid) frying fishballs

Tomato curry sauce

This weekend, my friend Kelsey came to visit.  We were both in Thiès on Friday for a Girls Camp planning meeting and came back to my site together to work on some of our assignments.  We decided to cook an “American” meal for dinner on Saturday night and prepared a burrito bar with tortillas, marinated meat, seasoned black beans, sautéed onions and peppers, grated cheese that Khady has brought back from France, chopped lettuce that Ibou grew in his tabletop garden, and mango salsa.  Everyone loved it.  Ibou, who usually eats like a bird and has been sick for the past week, wolfed down his entire burrito before mine was even wrapped up.  Khady informed me that a meal like this would cost 7€ per person in France, and Khady’s brother and nephew were glad that they’d come to visit just as we were putting the meal on the table.  The next morning, we shared the leftovers with the guys working here and they all came over to thank us personally.  I might just be making that Ceebu Jenn sooner than they thought!

Ibou, Fatou, Coumba, and Khady

Ahhh!  A yummy burrito.

Even this little pipsqueak enjoyed the meal.

Mid-Service

It’s hard to believe that I’m at “mid-service” already.  In two weeks, I’ll have been in Senegal for an entire year. There have been weeks that have flown by and days that have dragged on, seemingly forever, but some years are like that for all of us, I suppose.  The difference, for me, has been that that everything in my world changed the moment I got off the plane in Dakar last August—the language, the culture, the food, the climate. I’m just going to say it, the whole experience has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. One year later, the languages are familiar, and although I can communicate with those around me, I’m far from fluent; the culture is less shocking, but still confusing and abrasive at times; the food has gone from interesting and new to commonplace and repetitive; and last but not least, it is still HOT.  Those of you on the East Coast have recently experienced the extreme of my daily temperatures.  I’m not sure anyone can every really get used to it.  Even the Senegalese who were born and raised here still include mention of the heat in their everyday conversation: “Dafa taang!” (It’s hot!) or “Taang nga?” (Aren’t you hot?).

At mid-service, there’s a changing of the guard or a passing of the baton, of sorts, that happens with volunteers.  Many of the folks who were here when we arrived have just ended their service and have gone home, moving my group up a notch in seniority, and new trainees have arrived taking our place as the new kids on the block.  It was difficult to say goodbye to the friends I’d made here over the past year.  Living in harsh conditions and sharing our experiences with one another creates a unique bond.  Much of what goes on over here is hard to explain to people not living in the midst of it. Part of me felt a little abandoned when a handful of my friends left a couple of weeks ago and it made the 12 months ahead of me feel a quite daunting.  At the same time, however, I was welcoming a new group of people who are just about to start their service and are so excited to be here.  They’re a good reminder of why I came and what I hope to accomplish before I leave.

July 2011 - Past, current, and future PCVs from the Dakar region.

This seems as good a time as any to take my first vacation.  Next week I’ll be meeting my parents in Barcelona for a Mediterranean cruise.  It may seem extreme to go from roughing it in a developing world to fancy living on the high seas, but I need it desperately, especially now at mid-service. A little booster will do me good and, hopefully, I’ll come back refreshed , ready to take on new projects , and motivated to push a little harder on some projects that have recently stalled. I timed this trip to coincide with Ramadan, as things here tend to slow down then.  Ninety-four percent of the country are Muslims and therefore Ramadan becomes all-consuming.  People fast (no food or water) from sunup until sundown (~5:30am ~7:30pm) which means things begin to slow down around lunchtime when people roll out their mats.  After that it’s hard to get much done.  Some volunteers show their solidarity and fast with their families, however, I've decided to spend this time recharging and regrouping. I’m totally at peace with that.  Sometimes you need to listen to what your body needs, like last week when I consumed 3 hard-boiled eggs, a bag of beef jerky, and a can of tuna, including its juice, within a 3 hour window.  Clearly, I needed a protein boost.  Other times you need to listen to your soul and mine is telling me I need to get away for a bit.  Hopefully, this vacation will leave both my body AND my soul a little more energized.

Truth be told, I’m a little bit worried how I’ll handle being in the developed world again.  I’m packing extra wraps because, even though I long to experience air conditioning again, I’m sure I’m going to freeze on the ship and then there are the socially questionable bad habits I’ve picked up since being here.  In order to integrate into a new culture you often find yourself doing what they do to try to fit in, but these don’t always translate into social norms in other parts of the world. The following is a list of 10 habits that I should probably try to break before getting on my plane next week:

•  Burping during meals
• Wiping my nose on the hem of my skirt
• Flapping my arms like a chicken when I say “No”
• Eating my meals on the floor
• Wearing flip flops to formal events
• Slurping my drinks
• Scraping the filth beneath my fingernails with the page corners of the book I’m reading (ok, I admit, that one’s all me—no one reads here)
• Adding “Inchallah” (God willing) to the end of every sentence
• Letting insects crawl on my food while I’m eating
• Squatting wherever and whenever when I need to pee

Wish me luck with all of that!

While I’m gone, the volunteers in my area will be continuing to raise money for a Girls Leadership Camp that we’ve planned for the end of September. We’ve been working hard these past few months to coordinate this project.  I’ve even been in discussions with NPR’s West African Correspondent, Ofeibea Quist-Arcton, to join our Career Day panel.  Per Peace Corps policy, all funding for camps must be come through a Peace Corps Partnership Grant, which basically means that we have to solicit funding from people back home.  So, if you’ve been looking for a way to support some of the work I’m doing over here, this would be your opportunity.  One of the goals of this camp is to encourage girls with aptitude to continue their education, as this is a problem in Senegal.  According to a recent gender assessment study done by USAID, the ratio of girls to boys drops from 98% in primary school, to 80% in middle school, and then to only 54% in high school.  Girls are usually pulled out of school early to assist with household chores or later to get married.  Our camp will focus on the importance of continuing their education, on the roles they can play in their society, and the opportunities that are available to them.  We’ve got about 40 girls who are coming to camp, which is being held at a local university not far from my town.  To donate to this project, follow this link:  Thiès Region Girls Leadership Camp 2011.

Also, when you get a chance, take a look at the new tabs I’ve added to the top of my blog—Photos, Videos, and Sounds.  These should provide another window into my world here.  I’ll be updating these over the next year as I continue my service.