Last Post from the Fuuta!

This is the beginning of the end of my service! I have just one week before I leave my village for good. I mean, I would like to come back to visit for a few days in the future (like at least 5 years from now), but I will never again be living in Goudoude Diobe. Which I am VERY happy about. But, I'm sure I will miss it when it is no longer accessible to me.

Last night, the woman who I am named after gave me a silver bracelet, shoes, and fabric for an outfit because I am leaving. It was so sweet and touching. No tears were shed because I wasn't expecting it at all. And everyone else was smiling and happy. However, I think as the time grows nearer, I will be in a more fragile state of emotions.

I called a lot of my Senegalese friends from other cities and said goodbye to them. They were all so happy that I called, so that went well too. It's crazy to have to say goodbye to people here. Nothing like in the US. I said goodbye to all of you, but it was assumed that we would stay in touch via email, or facebook, or mail. But, here, there's a high illiteracy rate and no one from a village can really use a computer. And they don't have enough money anyways to go to a cyber to use the Internet or call my cell phone in America. So, it all rests in my ability and determination to stay in contact.

Residency Card Permits and Bank Accounts

Who would have thought it would be difficult to leave? Not in the sentimental sense, which I don't doubt will be hard. Rather, the Senegalese make it nearly impossible to jump through all their hoops before you depart from this country. As if they needed any more BS.

I went to renew my residency card permit back in August or September because it had been stolen in May when my purse was snatched on a bus. So, I went to the local bureau in Matam only to be told, after three different air conditioned offices, that I would have to go back to Dakar to get a new one because that is where it was stolen. They had the official documents in front of them, but refused to do it. So, I refused to get it renewed. I don't need it. No one asks to see it.

EXCEPT, I apparently HAVE to have it in order to depart from Senegal. Think about this logically, I have to have a residency card to LEAVE. What? I went to the bureau in Dakar, only to be met with animosity. The man filling it out told me to come back at 4 PM. Normally, I wouldn't have had a problem with this. But, it's a fourth sheet of paper, that I could replicate if I really wanted to. All I really needed was the official stamp. Not to mention, he was filling it out in front of me! I asked if I could have his name, but he refused to give it to me. At that point, I gave up and just left. When I came back at 4 PM that day, the only thing that was different about the flimsy sheet was the dumb red stamp. Inflated sense of authority.

Today, I thought I would close my bank account to start the process of leaving again. Nope. I have to close the bank account where I opened it, in Theis. It's not that bad. I was planning on going to Thies anyway. But, they said they needed my check book and bank card in order to close the account anyway. I explained that my check card was stolen. They countered with, what proof do you have that it was stolen. I'm not kidding. So, I'll go to Thies. Deal with more BS probably and with any hope, I'll be able to close my bank account.

Mural Tourney

I'm not even sure that there is a word in English for tournee in French. Maybe the closest is rotation?

Anyway, Erin and I went around painting murals this week in different schools that were all benefactors of an NGO called Counterpart International's school food program. It was hot, but very nice to do something out of the norm. Counterpart provided the transportation to and from the villages and everything we needed to paint. I put up the pictures. They're in the folder labeled March 2010. By the fifth and final mural we had it down to a science. We could get it all done with in an hour and a half. Pretty impressive! We were also able to go to a lot of places we otherwise would never have gone to. I even got to try the school food and it wasn't that bad. I would go to school to get fed lentils everyday!

HOWEVER! The sleeping situation was a completely different story. It was a fiasco to get things concretely settled, but when we did, we walked to the Espace de Jeunes. There's an auberge there and one of the rooms has an AC unit. So, we walked up there and when we turned on the lights we were shocked, even for OUR standards. The sheets were dirty. The one towel in the room looked like it had been used to wipe grease from brakes on a car. And there was suddenly two huge furry things scattering across the floor!! MICE! I mean, bigger than normal mice, but smaller than rats. I looked at Erin and we agreed that we were NOT going to stay there. The mice were climbing on the mattresses and on the drapes. It was very gross. Then the kid that took us up to our room was like, "Oh, it's nothing. I'll kill them and then you guys can stay." We then said it was forbidden in our culture to sleep with mice and he seemed to immediately to understand. So, we thankfully, were able to stay at another volunteer's house. I should get a prize for being hardcore from the government at the end of this.

Home Stretch

Who ever thought I would write that as a title!?! Home Stretch!?

I have 5 weeks left in my village, thank god. Yesterday, my trusty thermometer said it was 108 degrees outside and 100 degrees inside. Not to mention the wind that feels like God left his oven door open....It got hotter earlier this year.

So, with much chagrin, I have to ask all my friends and family to stop sending me letters and packages because they might not get to me in time. This is very hard for me to do, because I live for mail! But, I will be seeing all of your lovely faces SO soon!

I recently went to Dakar for our close of service (COS) conference and it left with a sad, empty feeling. All the people I came with to Senegal are leaving (some are staying!). I'm leaving all my friends that I've made here, both Senegalese and American. I feel established in this desert that is often compared to Hell. When I think about how much time I have left, I often am so excited to move on to the next thing in my life I can't bear to wait the 5 weeks. Other times, I have panic attacks that I don't really know what I'm doing and I'm leaving all this familiarity for changes and the unknown. But, I do know America! Right? Maybe America or the idea of "America" has morphed into something I think it should be and I will be disappointed when I get back....let's not think about that just yet.

P.S. May 8th, 2010 around 7 PM I will be in MPLS!!!!

Pictures and more to come...

PICTURES are up! Click on the link in the left hand side of the screen that says "Click Me!"

Sick Sick SICK!

Early last week I had two visitors. My friend from my study abroad program in Switzerland, Jo, was visiting her sister, Iris, in Ghana because she was a study abroad student there. So, they decided to come overland to Senegal just to see me! It was really nice to be able to see a friendly face.

So, we went to my village. As soon as we started eating lunch that day, my stomach started hurting--BAD. It was cramping up and basically dehabilitated me. I was writhing in pain on my thin mattress saying how sorry I was for being sick and a bad hostess. I thought it would pass; it had happened before and was usually done with in an hour or two. Only, it didn't stop. I was still writhing when I finally decided to call the med office at 5:30 that evening. Our doctor told me to take some Cipro and see if that helped. Well unfortunately, I couldn't keep that down, nor any water or food. SO, I called back, explained and she said to see if I could get some kind of transportation out of my village. Unfortunately, by that time, 7:30, it was already dark and NO ONE would leave, even if I paid them extra. The doctor then decided she would call an ambulance in Ourosoggui, the closest town with a hospital 50 k away. So I waited. And waited. waited. waiting, still waiting....

At 12:30, after 9 hours of intense abdominal pain, a gutted sedan pulled up to my front door and ushered Jo, Iris and myself out of the village. It took about an hour and change to get there and when we did, I was exhausted, dehydrated and scared because I was in a hospital in the middle of the desert in Senegal.

I ended up getting a malaria test, which was negative, and an IV, which was TERRIFYING! First IV ever. I mean, it all ended well, but still, needles and Africa make me think of germs, etc....We had to stay in the hospital that night. Luckily, we had the room to ourselves. Unfortunately, there were no mosquito nets around or even a place to hang the one that I had brought with me from home. There was a huge hole in the wall where the AC unit used to be; therefore, shutting the door to keep out mosquitoes was futile. The sheets were stained with blood and other fluids. The walls were smudged with dirt. Made me want to go home to Minneapolis and leave Senegal far behind.

But! I survived. I am healthy, for the most part, now. So, it can be done. I later went to Dakar and stayed in AC with a nice bed and sheets, so I'm not struggling. But, it made me so happy that I can leave the lifestyle here. Living in a village without electricity really does make emergencies very difficult to fix. This experience showed me how to fix a situation like this, but it was definitely not preferable. I am so thankful for the facilities in the West and I can't wait to get back to them. I am also going to look into getting the hospital beds with mosquito nets because the number one reason people are there in the first place is malaria. See what I'm getting at?

My Mom's Visit

My mom came to Senegal for a visit and just left yesterday evening. We had so much fun, some of which you can see by looking at my pictures. For Christmas, I got a new camera that looks like a submarine. Therefore, no dust particles or whatever will EVER get in it. I love it.

My mom was here for 10 days and we went up to my village, then worked our way back to Dakar. We were in St. Louis for Christmas, which was great. We were accosted by the typical Senegalese man trying to sell us pants, t-shirts, wooden, carved things, etc and it was funny to try and deflect them. “I give you best price. How much you give me?”

We saw lots of good art, ate SO MUCH good food, and spent mother-daughter time together.