I have been away from site for about two weeks now. At first I was in Ndioum because the water had gone out and I was starting to get sick. Then I had to go down to Joal, a city on the coast south of Dakar, but before that I stopped in St. Louis. While there, i met up with the female teacher, Awa and got to see her baby, Astou. If I could bring someone back to the states with me it might be this baby and Awa. There are pictures in the July 2009 folder which you can access via the left sidebar. Judge for yourself.
We had a health and environmental education summit in Joal earlier this week. I thought it went well. Much more informative and pertinent to my village life than a lot of the meetings in the past have been. We were able to discuss projects we had already started, ones we wanted to start, ideas, possible funders, etc. Joal is on the ocean, but the beaches were filthy. It was the ocean though, so we took advantage of it. I also walked down to the island that you can only get to by crossing a long bridge. It was the nicest part of the whole city. Joal is a place where Islam and Christianity coexist. It was cool to walk around and see all the statues and little shrines because in Islam you never see that.
Now, I'm in Dakar and next week I will be helping out with the English camps. I'm not entirely sure what that entails, but people say it was one of the more fun things that they did during their service.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
"Education, it's hard."
Well, yeah.
I was at my favorite family's house the other day and I started talking to Faty Soyil, the 15 year old about what she wanted to be when she grows up. She applied for the girls' scholarship this year and I was really hoping that she would get it because I really like both her and her family and she needs the money to stay in school.
But, to my dismay, she told me she didn't want to go to university because it was too hard. I was so shocked and disappointed. She said she just wanted to get a job. I explained that you have to go to school to get a good job. I even told her about the possibility of going to university in America or Europe. I really hope that when I leave, I will have impressed upon her the importance of continuing her education.
The other week, I was talking with someone else in my village and they were astounded I went to and graduated from college. I guess they still associate college with being male? You can possibly get a job without going to university, but you get a better one by going. I guess I should introduce myself and immediately say, "I went to college, too."
Hawa, the only female teacher in Goudoude, said that she only went to a few years of university before she dropped out to become a teacher! I couldn't believe it. I think there is a test you can take to become qualified for teaching in Senegal. It never crossed my mind that some of the teachers may not have gone to university.
In sillier news, I just found out the Pulaars have a vampire-like folklore! They are called mbih's. I asked a teenager if there were any in his village and he shook his head vigorously back and forth. He did, however, say that for 10 mille, the equivalent of $20, he would go kill one and bring it back for me to see. I decided that probably wasn't the best idea. I can just imagine him coming back with some innocent kid....but I will find out more about the story and report back!
I was at my favorite family's house the other day and I started talking to Faty Soyil, the 15 year old about what she wanted to be when she grows up. She applied for the girls' scholarship this year and I was really hoping that she would get it because I really like both her and her family and she needs the money to stay in school.
But, to my dismay, she told me she didn't want to go to university because it was too hard. I was so shocked and disappointed. She said she just wanted to get a job. I explained that you have to go to school to get a good job. I even told her about the possibility of going to university in America or Europe. I really hope that when I leave, I will have impressed upon her the importance of continuing her education.
The other week, I was talking with someone else in my village and they were astounded I went to and graduated from college. I guess they still associate college with being male? You can possibly get a job without going to university, but you get a better one by going. I guess I should introduce myself and immediately say, "I went to college, too."
Hawa, the only female teacher in Goudoude, said that she only went to a few years of university before she dropped out to become a teacher! I couldn't believe it. I think there is a test you can take to become qualified for teaching in Senegal. It never crossed my mind that some of the teachers may not have gone to university.
In sillier news, I just found out the Pulaars have a vampire-like folklore! They are called mbih's. I asked a teenager if there were any in his village and he shook his head vigorously back and forth. He did, however, say that for 10 mille, the equivalent of $20, he would go kill one and bring it back for me to see. I decided that probably wasn't the best idea. I can just imagine him coming back with some innocent kid....but I will find out more about the story and report back!
I have pictures!
Thanks to my wonderful parents I now have camera number 3! I will post the pictures I have been snapping as soon as I can, but for now, I updated pictures that my site mate Erin took over the last few months. Just click on the link that says "Click me!" on the left sidebar and enjoy.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Happiness, My sister !
Recently, while walking through the muggy streets of Matam, a young boy passed me and yelled, "HAPPINESS ! My sister !" I just laughed and said something to the effect of "yes, happiness!" It's so odd to me the English words that Senegalese pick up. Indeed, this adolescent boy was very happy and if I want to follow Barack Obama's words of wisdom, I am his sister.
This was a stark contrast to the popular shirt here of a giant fist with the middle finger sticking up in the air and huge F**K YOU written in neon yellow across it. The teenage boys that identify with Akon, Biggie, 2PAC, etc. have no idea what the lyrics of their popular rap songs mean. It's not uncommon to be walking down the street and have some kid say "F**k your mother." At first, I was shocked by the vulgarity of these teens, but then I quickly realized that they have NO IDEA what they are saying and there is no equivalent, that I am aware of, in Pulaar. So, the best I can do is tell them it's not polite. To which they laugh hysterically....
A few months ago, I saw a teen with jeans that had a very vuloptous woman on the back posing in vulgar positions...you wonder who in their right mind thinks, "I know what I'll do! I'll create the most offensive clothing possible and then send it to the developing world where they don't know what it means and then spread globalization that way!" Idiots!
For all the negative stuff that people pick up there are some cute things too. There's a little girl in my village who really wants to learn English. So I taught her how to say "My name is _____" "I live in Goudoude Diobe" and "I am from Senegal." The other day, I was passing by her house and she cried "Nice!" I didn't know exactly how to respond to this so I just waved. Then she cried "Rice is very nice!" One of the 4 commercials here on public Senegalese tv is for a rice provider and at the end they say, in Enlish, "My rice, it's very nice."
So, overall it is happiness to my heart when I hear Senegalese trying to speak English and I always humor them by trying to hold a conversation with them. Now, if I could just work on the rap community and the clothing distributors.....
This was a stark contrast to the popular shirt here of a giant fist with the middle finger sticking up in the air and huge F**K YOU written in neon yellow across it. The teenage boys that identify with Akon, Biggie, 2PAC, etc. have no idea what the lyrics of their popular rap songs mean. It's not uncommon to be walking down the street and have some kid say "F**k your mother." At first, I was shocked by the vulgarity of these teens, but then I quickly realized that they have NO IDEA what they are saying and there is no equivalent, that I am aware of, in Pulaar. So, the best I can do is tell them it's not polite. To which they laugh hysterically....
A few months ago, I saw a teen with jeans that had a very vuloptous woman on the back posing in vulgar positions...you wonder who in their right mind thinks, "I know what I'll do! I'll create the most offensive clothing possible and then send it to the developing world where they don't know what it means and then spread globalization that way!" Idiots!
For all the negative stuff that people pick up there are some cute things too. There's a little girl in my village who really wants to learn English. So I taught her how to say "My name is _____" "I live in Goudoude Diobe" and "I am from Senegal." The other day, I was passing by her house and she cried "Nice!" I didn't know exactly how to respond to this so I just waved. Then she cried "Rice is very nice!" One of the 4 commercials here on public Senegalese tv is for a rice provider and at the end they say, in Enlish, "My rice, it's very nice."
So, overall it is happiness to my heart when I hear Senegalese trying to speak English and I always humor them by trying to hold a conversation with them. Now, if I could just work on the rap community and the clothing distributors.....
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
How a Miracle Quickly Turns to a Tragedy
Last Wednesday, I woke up and the sky looked ominously dark. I could tell it was going to rain. I went about my morning routine of getting water etc, when one of my sisters asked me to come in to her bedroom. When I went in, I saw Wuri, the matron in the village and immediately put two and two together. My other SUPER pregnant sister, Penda, was in labor.
So, I assisted her with the labor. Since then, I have come to many conclusions, but one of them is that Pulaar women are TOUGH! She was outside in her bathroom, flies were everywhere, and she didn’t make much noise. She just silently dealt with the contractions.
When the first baby was born, it was so tiny, but immediately began crying, which was good. I cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in a pagne. It wasn’t long before Wuri came to the conclusion that Penda was going to have twins. When Penda admitted that she knew, Wuri and I were shocked that she didn’t tell us before. Most often, here, it’s safer if twins are born in a hospital with a doctor on hand. I tried to convince Wuri and Penda that if she nursed the baby it would release a hormone that speeds the delivery of the second baby. Unfortunately, they didn’t heed my advice.
After an hour and a half of waiting, they decided to take her to the health post in Kobilo, a 7 km charet (horse drawn cart) ride over bumpy terrain. So Penda got on the charet only to be go through a downpour of rain ten minutes later. Once she was in Kobilo, the nurse there told her to go to Ourosoggui, the biggest, closest city 40 km away to the hospital. All the while, the first baby boy had not nursed and Penda had been in labor since 7 AM that morning.
Later that afternoon, we got a phone call that she had given birth to the second baby boy and was resting. I went to Ourosoggui later that night only to find out that the second baby had died. Thankfully, when I arrived Penda was ok. She looked exhausted, but she was healthy. They actually took me to see the 2nd baby and it was just as tiny as the first. I asked the doctor how it died. She told me that the incubator was already full so they put him in the slightly older incubator in a room that no one was in. When they went to check on him, he had died. She said that he died from exhaustion. I was upset that the 2nd baby had died, but even more upset that they had just left him in a room by himself when he clearly needed to be monitored!
In this culture, you don’t name the baby until seven days after its birth. Also, immediately after giving birth Penda had seemed uninterested in holding or even seeing her baby. I’m not sure if the former is related to Islam, but the latter is most likely a result of the high infant mortality rate here in Senegal. The mother doesn’t want to get too attached to the baby until she knows it is going to survive, which I guess is after seven days for them. A defense mechanism. It is a completely different mother-child relationship than the one I am familiar with.
While there, Penda’s husband called from Dakar to ask after the health of the babies. NOT to see if she was doing ok. That’s another foreign relationship—Pulaar husbands and wives. I would be upset if my husband was not present at the birth of our baby! If not to see the new baby, then to act as a moral support for me and to see how much work it is to have children!
She was clearly exhausted, so I left and came back the next day. She said she was cleared to go home, but her 1st baby was still on an IV, so she was going to stay. I called her every night to make sure she was still ok and to see how the baby was doing.
Then, Sunday morning, my other sister Faty Hawa came to tell me that Penda’s baby had died and she would be coming home later. After all that, both her babies died. My estimate is that she was eight months pregnant. She was still working up until recently; making food, getting water, etc. I think she is around 21 or 22. She already has a 5 year old son and a 2 and a half year old daughter. Her twins shouldn’t have died. Her family has family members that live in Ourosoggui. When they found out she was pregnant with twins, they should have immediately sent her to live with them until the birth. It’s hard not to be upset. There was nothing that I could have done, which makes it all the more frustrating.
Again, this just makes me want to become a nurse even more. So I can at least feel useful in situations like these. I’m not sure how Penda feels about it, surely depressed. The thing is that people don’t talk about tragedy like we do in the US. They keep their emotions to themselves. Crying is seen as a sign of weakness in the Pulaar culture. They buried the tiny boys in the community graveyard and when people talk to me about it they say, “Eh, ina yurmini.” Roughly “Yes, it is tragic.”
So, I assisted her with the labor. Since then, I have come to many conclusions, but one of them is that Pulaar women are TOUGH! She was outside in her bathroom, flies were everywhere, and she didn’t make much noise. She just silently dealt with the contractions.
When the first baby was born, it was so tiny, but immediately began crying, which was good. I cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in a pagne. It wasn’t long before Wuri came to the conclusion that Penda was going to have twins. When Penda admitted that she knew, Wuri and I were shocked that she didn’t tell us before. Most often, here, it’s safer if twins are born in a hospital with a doctor on hand. I tried to convince Wuri and Penda that if she nursed the baby it would release a hormone that speeds the delivery of the second baby. Unfortunately, they didn’t heed my advice.
After an hour and a half of waiting, they decided to take her to the health post in Kobilo, a 7 km charet (horse drawn cart) ride over bumpy terrain. So Penda got on the charet only to be go through a downpour of rain ten minutes later. Once she was in Kobilo, the nurse there told her to go to Ourosoggui, the biggest, closest city 40 km away to the hospital. All the while, the first baby boy had not nursed and Penda had been in labor since 7 AM that morning.
Later that afternoon, we got a phone call that she had given birth to the second baby boy and was resting. I went to Ourosoggui later that night only to find out that the second baby had died. Thankfully, when I arrived Penda was ok. She looked exhausted, but she was healthy. They actually took me to see the 2nd baby and it was just as tiny as the first. I asked the doctor how it died. She told me that the incubator was already full so they put him in the slightly older incubator in a room that no one was in. When they went to check on him, he had died. She said that he died from exhaustion. I was upset that the 2nd baby had died, but even more upset that they had just left him in a room by himself when he clearly needed to be monitored!
In this culture, you don’t name the baby until seven days after its birth. Also, immediately after giving birth Penda had seemed uninterested in holding or even seeing her baby. I’m not sure if the former is related to Islam, but the latter is most likely a result of the high infant mortality rate here in Senegal. The mother doesn’t want to get too attached to the baby until she knows it is going to survive, which I guess is after seven days for them. A defense mechanism. It is a completely different mother-child relationship than the one I am familiar with.
While there, Penda’s husband called from Dakar to ask after the health of the babies. NOT to see if she was doing ok. That’s another foreign relationship—Pulaar husbands and wives. I would be upset if my husband was not present at the birth of our baby! If not to see the new baby, then to act as a moral support for me and to see how much work it is to have children!
She was clearly exhausted, so I left and came back the next day. She said she was cleared to go home, but her 1st baby was still on an IV, so she was going to stay. I called her every night to make sure she was still ok and to see how the baby was doing.
Then, Sunday morning, my other sister Faty Hawa came to tell me that Penda’s baby had died and she would be coming home later. After all that, both her babies died. My estimate is that she was eight months pregnant. She was still working up until recently; making food, getting water, etc. I think she is around 21 or 22. She already has a 5 year old son and a 2 and a half year old daughter. Her twins shouldn’t have died. Her family has family members that live in Ourosoggui. When they found out she was pregnant with twins, they should have immediately sent her to live with them until the birth. It’s hard not to be upset. There was nothing that I could have done, which makes it all the more frustrating.
Again, this just makes me want to become a nurse even more. So I can at least feel useful in situations like these. I’m not sure how Penda feels about it, surely depressed. The thing is that people don’t talk about tragedy like we do in the US. They keep their emotions to themselves. Crying is seen as a sign of weakness in the Pulaar culture. They buried the tiny boys in the community graveyard and when people talk to me about it they say, “Eh, ina yurmini.” Roughly “Yes, it is tragic.”
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Blessing the Rains Down in Africa (Senegal, specifically)
Two nights ago it RAINED! For 4 hours. It was actually kind of annoying because before it started there was a gigantic dust storm that lasted for 2 hours. All of this, of course, happened at night so I had to quickly bring my matela and mosquito net inside before I got blasted with sand and dirt. All's well that ends well: I can at least start planting flowers and trees now !
It has been so muggy here the last 48 hrs. that I have been continuously sweaty. I think I may prefer the dry, extreme temperatures...either that of I have picked up the habit of complaining and nothing will suffice except AC in Amerik.
One of my friends recently asked how I am going to plant trees in the dry heat of the desert, but if you could only see the small lakes that formed over night ! It's amazing how quickly grass and weeds have started sprouting and growing in the desert. When it rains, it literally pours up here. I will be planting Eucalyptus, Neem, and Prosopis trees in my village, though. They are all suitable for the dry-Fuuta conditions. Neem trees can actually be used as a mosquito repellent if the leaves are made into a cream or burned like incense. With the rainy season upon us, I have been holding causeries or information sessions about how to make the neem lotion/cream and reminding people that it's cheaper to pay for a mosquito net than to pay for the meds to get rid of malaria. There has recently been a big push to drastically lower the numbers of malaria cases in Senegal, so hopefully I can do my part.
On a different note, I was going on a run the other day and scared a cow, which in turn scared me and about 30 other cows grazing nearby. I got so used to seeing cows standing outside my bedroom door, in the road, walking inches away from me, that I forgot they are really a lot bigger than me and could probably do some serious damage if they get angry enough. I tried to milk a cow a few months ago and it was not at all the romantic, cottage-farm experience. Rather it was slippery, difficult to do successfully, and scary because the woman behind me kept reminding me to move slowly or else the cow would kick me in the face ! However, now, when people ask me if I can milk cows, I can say yes. The people in my village always ask me if there are cows in America. If they only knew I come from the land next to the the land of dairy....
It has been so muggy here the last 48 hrs. that I have been continuously sweaty. I think I may prefer the dry, extreme temperatures...either that of I have picked up the habit of complaining and nothing will suffice except AC in Amerik.
One of my friends recently asked how I am going to plant trees in the dry heat of the desert, but if you could only see the small lakes that formed over night ! It's amazing how quickly grass and weeds have started sprouting and growing in the desert. When it rains, it literally pours up here. I will be planting Eucalyptus, Neem, and Prosopis trees in my village, though. They are all suitable for the dry-Fuuta conditions. Neem trees can actually be used as a mosquito repellent if the leaves are made into a cream or burned like incense. With the rainy season upon us, I have been holding causeries or information sessions about how to make the neem lotion/cream and reminding people that it's cheaper to pay for a mosquito net than to pay for the meds to get rid of malaria. There has recently been a big push to drastically lower the numbers of malaria cases in Senegal, so hopefully I can do my part.
On a different note, I was going on a run the other day and scared a cow, which in turn scared me and about 30 other cows grazing nearby. I got so used to seeing cows standing outside my bedroom door, in the road, walking inches away from me, that I forgot they are really a lot bigger than me and could probably do some serious damage if they get angry enough. I tried to milk a cow a few months ago and it was not at all the romantic, cottage-farm experience. Rather it was slippery, difficult to do successfully, and scary because the woman behind me kept reminding me to move slowly or else the cow would kick me in the face ! However, now, when people ask me if I can milk cows, I can say yes. The people in my village always ask me if there are cows in America. If they only knew I come from the land next to the the land of dairy....
Saturday, June 6, 2009
A Cow Died...
A MONTH AGO AND WE ARE STILL EATING THE MEAT!
When we first had beef in our food bowl I was ecstatic! Then I tasted it and quickly became less excited. The thing that is bothering me most is that we are still eating it a month later. I saw it pre-cooked and it looked a lot like beef jerky so at least it's sort of sanitary. But, it taints all the rest of the food because they cook everything in the same pot, so now every meal has an old beefy shot of flavor....yuck.
I'm not even sure how said cow died. I asked if it had just died on its own of natural causes or if they killed it and I couldn't really understand what they told me. I hope it was the latter.
It's dust season again (every season is dust season, just this one more so). The dust storms only seem to come at night when I'm sleeping outside. It would be torture to sleep inside my stuffy room. So, for the last few days I've woken up with a film of sand and dirt covering me. It's pretty rough. Sleeping and living in the Fuuta seem to be like oil and water during the hot season....
I'm going to be planting 575 trees during the month of July! I went to the Eaux et Foret (the tree nursery organization) and spoke to a guy about bringing them out to my village. He was going to charge me $120 for the trees that are supposed to be free, but I miraculously was able to negotiate with him and now I am getting them for free! I still have to pay for transportation out to the village, but I'm having a pretty good day just knowing that I wasn't getting duped. I will write an update about the actual planting day which I foresee as being a fiasco....
When we first had beef in our food bowl I was ecstatic! Then I tasted it and quickly became less excited. The thing that is bothering me most is that we are still eating it a month later. I saw it pre-cooked and it looked a lot like beef jerky so at least it's sort of sanitary. But, it taints all the rest of the food because they cook everything in the same pot, so now every meal has an old beefy shot of flavor....yuck.
I'm not even sure how said cow died. I asked if it had just died on its own of natural causes or if they killed it and I couldn't really understand what they told me. I hope it was the latter.
It's dust season again (every season is dust season, just this one more so). The dust storms only seem to come at night when I'm sleeping outside. It would be torture to sleep inside my stuffy room. So, for the last few days I've woken up with a film of sand and dirt covering me. It's pretty rough. Sleeping and living in the Fuuta seem to be like oil and water during the hot season....
I'm going to be planting 575 trees during the month of July! I went to the Eaux et Foret (the tree nursery organization) and spoke to a guy about bringing them out to my village. He was going to charge me $120 for the trees that are supposed to be free, but I miraculously was able to negotiate with him and now I am getting them for free! I still have to pay for transportation out to the village, but I'm having a pretty good day just knowing that I wasn't getting duped. I will write an update about the actual planting day which I foresee as being a fiasco....
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