In Senegal, this hot and dry land of infinite frustration, PC volunteers are sometimes driven to rely on the small things for emotional relief. For example, I brought my cat into Mbour today to be fixed, and couldnt get them to start the surgery until I had been hit on relentlessly by the 4 male employees. Infinite Frustration. At times like that..I miss America. But, luckily, a lot of other things make up for it.
My younger mom had a baby last week, and they named it Buree. I didnt even know that was a name. In French, Buree is one way of saying Drunk. They call it Baby Buree. Drunk Baby. I came into the city and when I left, my family asked for a gift of baby clothes (they always ask for something or other, with about a 25 percent success rate) and I hadnt really planed on getting anything. Until I saw a baby shirt emblazoned with the phrase "Powered By Cheese." I would have bought that at any cost. So, watching the baby buree being carted around in a powered by cheese t shirt should provide some comic relief over the next few months : )
When I told my Senegalese family I was taking my cat in to get an operation, my older mom completely lost it. I havent heard her laugh that loudly and uncontrollably since the great "toubab tries to do laundry by hand" incident of 2010. People in Senegal dont get operations unless theyre deathly ill. So...the fact that I was getting an unessecary operation for my CAT was totally incomprehensible.
Oh well. Time to go get the cat and hope he survived, and hope I dont have to get hit on AGAIN. Also, my dad filled out a customs form for a care package valuing the contents at 25 dollars. So when the post office charged me an extra 2500 cfa for the package, which is ridiculous, I asked why, and they pointed at the customs form. Logic there? Zero. I still had to pay for it. This country, sometimes...
Friday, December 2, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Pippin Came Home!!
My cat in village ran away last week. He is now, apparently, back. Im in Dakar, but have been calling my host family every day to ask. All of the cats in Senegal kind of look like they came from the same litter, so I have my fingers crossed that my family isn't feeding a random different cat every day by accident.
After everything that has happened here, the cat, my flip-flops, and my ipod are the only things I still own. I like the cat the most, and Im so glad he's back : )
After everything that has happened here, the cat, my flip-flops, and my ipod are the only things I still own. I like the cat the most, and Im so glad he's back : )
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Oh. My. God.
I probably shouldnt be posting right now because I havent slept in like four days and am feeling pretty anti Senegal right now, but luckily I handwrote a post about a week ago when I was in a better mood, so Ill try and type that up, hoping the electricity doesnt cut out! For the record, I havent slept because these past four days have been Tabaski, Senegals biggest holiday, where tons of people Ive never met come to the village, and the amount of laughing at the white person speaking sereer, and being hit on by strangers, that ensues is bothersome. It is nice to see people that work elsewhere and come back to the village though, like my sisters who are pretty cool. The reason Ive been so stressed out, though, is that this year they rented out a generator to BLAST terrible music from a spot about twenty feet from my room, thus the not sleeping, and we eat nothing but sheep, oil, and pasta for four days. I didnt plan ahead and stock up on snacks, which was obviously a huge oversight on my part. Trust me. You dont want to know what day four of leftover sheep parts in a country where refrigerators dont exist might include. My cat wouldnt even touch it. I took a video on my ipod of what can only be referred to as a meat clothesline. You can probably imagine it, but if youve ever seen viscera hanging next to laundry out to dry and realized how similar they look...you would understand why I have sworn never to eat sheep again. Not knowingly at least. I have been surviving on white bread and lollipops. Oh, and my phone was dead the whole time so I didnt have my usual channel of sanity to tap into. Everything is back to normal now, though, so I am looking forward to a nice, long, nap followed by like twelve hours of sleep. Then tomorrow I will try and get back to work on grad school apps. OK, heres the happier blog post! Fair warning, I cant find the apostrophe, quotation marks, or parentheses, on this keyboard.
And, with my hands poised to write, real life just hit me in the face. I just found out that my Papaw had a stroke this morning, Ill try to find a way to call home, apparently he is resting comfortably. I dont know details, so I wont write anymore. Ill still go on with this other post, though, more as a distraction than anything else. Then Im biking home and going straight to sleep before I can hope to deal with anything.
K, here goes: On my evening walk today, I was listening to the latest This American Life which was about middle school. One 7th grader who had just moved to a new town was explaining how hard it was because in middle school, people care too much about who is cool and who isnt, and its difficult to make friends in that environment. He mentioned that in kindergarten, however, you can basically just walk up to anyone and say hi, want to be my friend?
I remember being in that same situation when we moved from California to Michigan when I was going into 6th grade, and I think my family was worried, or, well, concerned, about how I would do with it. However, I loved 6th grade. I vividly remember standing in Mrs. Levys math classroom straight through lunch while she graded papers, just to watch the snow falling through the window. In Santa Cruz, we used to drive out to Tahoe to ski every year, but Id never lived somewhere where snow could be a daily occurance. Everyone else trooped off through the hallways to the cafeteria and I was rooted to the spot, thinking it was like magic, standing in a snow globe. Beanie babies were cool then, I used to have friends over to trade, discuss our collections, and gossip about how attractive Leo DiCaprio was in Titanic, which came out that year. I also used to disappear for entire afternoons with my Nature Notebook, sitting in the wetland behind our condo watching Canada Geese arrive, build nests, and raise little goslings. Id never seen a Canada Goose before. I also used to watch and draw frogs laying eggs, tadpoles sprouting arms and legs, crawling out of the water and hopping around, and then disappearing when ice started forming on the pond.
Then, however, seventh grade arrived. They shuffled us around, and I didnt really know anyone in my group of classes anymore. Luckily, yearbook and art class came along, and I learned to use Photoshop and my Moms ancient Pentax SLR camera which I still have. I wanted to be Cool, though, so unfortunately, instead of hanging out with the people I really ended up liking, the ones who got into computer games and programming, the unabashedly smart kids, basically, I decided I needed cooler friends, and wore the same rotation of tommy hilfiger and bebe shirts pretty much every week. I wasnt cool, but was happily in denial anyways. I also decided, at some point in there, that it was necessary for me to become a cheerleader. Anyways, crushes on real life, non movie star, boys began, and awkward dances started occuring every month. The first time I danced with a boy, I didnt know how, and remember in excruciating detail as I, in my Gap shirt with a rhinestone cat on the front, put my arms around his waist. His arms were also around mine, and as we awkwardly moved in small circles, I would periodically come around to see my friends furiously gesturing for me to move my arms up to his neck, which I mistakenly took as encouragement, and Im pretty sure I even gave them a thumbs up at one point. I dont think I ever talked to him again after that...haha.
Then came 8th grade. In CA, at the small private catholic school I had attended, the 8th graders were Kings and Queens. They had been there since pre school and reigned over the student body kingdom for a year before entering a mysterious thing called High School. In Novi, MI, though...it was terrible. Gossiping, judgement, what clothes everyone wore, ie. hormones, all hit their boiling point. At that point, I really should have just gone with it and just hung out with the uncool people I actually liked, but hung on stubbornly to some nebulous idea of how to be popular. I got bangs, terrible idea, got a highlighter yellow puffy ski jacket, and wore fluorescent white eyeshadow every day, which looks GREAT on redheads.... : P
Luckily, my family sent me off to the Pacific Northwest for Outdoor Adventure camp that summer, where I learned that there was a lot more to life than worrying about which lunch table to sit at, and that I love hiking camping etc. I still wanted to be a cheerleader, though, since my fixations run pretty deep. I mean, Ive wanted to be a PCV since that summer and here I am. I got on the team, entered high school, continued running track, hurdles at that point, and realiwed that nobody really cared about what everyone else was doing anymore. I quickly fell into place, eventually quit the cheer team, started the outdoor adventure club, worked backstage on plays, was in french club, worked for the newspaper, and ran track all four years. I got a 4.0, got into University of Michigan, and have basically had fun nerding out ever since.
What I want to express, though, is that one of the best things about Senegalese culture, as well as volunteer culture, is that its just like kindergarten. You can walk up to anyone and they are automatically your friend. Senegalese people love talking and just hanging out, and volunteers understand each other and support each other in a way that is unparalleled in the US. Not to undermine friendships at home, I just wanted to say that the ability to be open and supportive towards anyone is something we could all use a little more of in our lives, and something I think Ive learned to do well here. This is where I would insert a smiley face but I have no idea where it is on this computer. Oh well, thanks as always for reading!
Longest post ever, whew. Love you all, wish me luck with the grad school apps and say a prayer for my Papaw! Oh, and ignore spelling errors. Im not editing this, Im going home and going to bed. At one in the afternoon, hehe.
And, with my hands poised to write, real life just hit me in the face. I just found out that my Papaw had a stroke this morning, Ill try to find a way to call home, apparently he is resting comfortably. I dont know details, so I wont write anymore. Ill still go on with this other post, though, more as a distraction than anything else. Then Im biking home and going straight to sleep before I can hope to deal with anything.
K, here goes: On my evening walk today, I was listening to the latest This American Life which was about middle school. One 7th grader who had just moved to a new town was explaining how hard it was because in middle school, people care too much about who is cool and who isnt, and its difficult to make friends in that environment. He mentioned that in kindergarten, however, you can basically just walk up to anyone and say hi, want to be my friend?
I remember being in that same situation when we moved from California to Michigan when I was going into 6th grade, and I think my family was worried, or, well, concerned, about how I would do with it. However, I loved 6th grade. I vividly remember standing in Mrs. Levys math classroom straight through lunch while she graded papers, just to watch the snow falling through the window. In Santa Cruz, we used to drive out to Tahoe to ski every year, but Id never lived somewhere where snow could be a daily occurance. Everyone else trooped off through the hallways to the cafeteria and I was rooted to the spot, thinking it was like magic, standing in a snow globe. Beanie babies were cool then, I used to have friends over to trade, discuss our collections, and gossip about how attractive Leo DiCaprio was in Titanic, which came out that year. I also used to disappear for entire afternoons with my Nature Notebook, sitting in the wetland behind our condo watching Canada Geese arrive, build nests, and raise little goslings. Id never seen a Canada Goose before. I also used to watch and draw frogs laying eggs, tadpoles sprouting arms and legs, crawling out of the water and hopping around, and then disappearing when ice started forming on the pond.
Then, however, seventh grade arrived. They shuffled us around, and I didnt really know anyone in my group of classes anymore. Luckily, yearbook and art class came along, and I learned to use Photoshop and my Moms ancient Pentax SLR camera which I still have. I wanted to be Cool, though, so unfortunately, instead of hanging out with the people I really ended up liking, the ones who got into computer games and programming, the unabashedly smart kids, basically, I decided I needed cooler friends, and wore the same rotation of tommy hilfiger and bebe shirts pretty much every week. I wasnt cool, but was happily in denial anyways. I also decided, at some point in there, that it was necessary for me to become a cheerleader. Anyways, crushes on real life, non movie star, boys began, and awkward dances started occuring every month. The first time I danced with a boy, I didnt know how, and remember in excruciating detail as I, in my Gap shirt with a rhinestone cat on the front, put my arms around his waist. His arms were also around mine, and as we awkwardly moved in small circles, I would periodically come around to see my friends furiously gesturing for me to move my arms up to his neck, which I mistakenly took as encouragement, and Im pretty sure I even gave them a thumbs up at one point. I dont think I ever talked to him again after that...haha.
Then came 8th grade. In CA, at the small private catholic school I had attended, the 8th graders were Kings and Queens. They had been there since pre school and reigned over the student body kingdom for a year before entering a mysterious thing called High School. In Novi, MI, though...it was terrible. Gossiping, judgement, what clothes everyone wore, ie. hormones, all hit their boiling point. At that point, I really should have just gone with it and just hung out with the uncool people I actually liked, but hung on stubbornly to some nebulous idea of how to be popular. I got bangs, terrible idea, got a highlighter yellow puffy ski jacket, and wore fluorescent white eyeshadow every day, which looks GREAT on redheads.... : P
Luckily, my family sent me off to the Pacific Northwest for Outdoor Adventure camp that summer, where I learned that there was a lot more to life than worrying about which lunch table to sit at, and that I love hiking camping etc. I still wanted to be a cheerleader, though, since my fixations run pretty deep. I mean, Ive wanted to be a PCV since that summer and here I am. I got on the team, entered high school, continued running track, hurdles at that point, and realiwed that nobody really cared about what everyone else was doing anymore. I quickly fell into place, eventually quit the cheer team, started the outdoor adventure club, worked backstage on plays, was in french club, worked for the newspaper, and ran track all four years. I got a 4.0, got into University of Michigan, and have basically had fun nerding out ever since.
What I want to express, though, is that one of the best things about Senegalese culture, as well as volunteer culture, is that its just like kindergarten. You can walk up to anyone and they are automatically your friend. Senegalese people love talking and just hanging out, and volunteers understand each other and support each other in a way that is unparalleled in the US. Not to undermine friendships at home, I just wanted to say that the ability to be open and supportive towards anyone is something we could all use a little more of in our lives, and something I think Ive learned to do well here. This is where I would insert a smiley face but I have no idea where it is on this computer. Oh well, thanks as always for reading!
Longest post ever, whew. Love you all, wish me luck with the grad school apps and say a prayer for my Papaw! Oh, and ignore spelling errors. Im not editing this, Im going home and going to bed. At one in the afternoon, hehe.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Dear Admissions Committees, Please Forgive Me.
Hi everyone, you havent heard from me in a long time. Not for any particular reason, except that things just seem pretty normal here, and you probably don't want to hear about what Ive been having for lunch every day (oily rice and fish, in case you are actually curious). On a daily basis my emotions can be found somewhere along the spectrum of overwhelming love for this country, apathetic contentment, and an almost manic desire to run to the airport and hop on the first plane home. I wont lie, Im excited to have about 5 months left, but am not looking forward to that end date too anxiously. Currently, Im trying to figure out what to do with my life when I get back to the US, besides the obvious: kiss the ground the second I get off the plane (dont worry, I've spent the past two years building up an immunity against all germs), eating everything in sight, drinking a lot of good draft beer and coffee, fishing for real fish in real rivers, and wearing sweaters. Big, soft, comfy, sweaters.
Anyways, what prompted me to finally update this here blog is the fact that Im actually supposed to be writing a statement of purpose for grad school. I have a vague idea of what I will write, and am slowly working on an outline. However, I wish there were some way I could express to the admissions committees who will eventually see me as one more black and white piece of paper in the pile, just how animated of a situation is necessary for me to wrangle that sheet of paper into existence in the first place.
I am currently sitting in a regional house, one day before halloween. All of the appliances somehow managed to break around the same time, so three of us are all squashed together at the one desk in the house where we are trying to get stuff done with the few machines we do have. I am attempting to type up a professional and convincing essay for potential grad schools, while the monitor flicks on and off due to the volunteer to my left who is messing with electrical wires in an attempt to get the phone to work, while he shouts out the window in Wolof (a local language). The volunteer to my right is working on her halloween costume, and trying to coax a very stubborn printer into printing out a picture of a handgun. The gun has thus far deigned only to come out as either the size of a paperclip, or too large to fit on the paper. Another volunteer behind us is trying to get a fan to work so we wont all die of heat stroke, but the already heavily duct-taped blades and electrical cord are making that difficult. I am drinking coffee that someone made using salty sink water instead of filtered freshwater (which is delivered weekly to the house by a man on a donkey drawn cart) so my coffee tastes like a vaguely hazelnut flavored ocean. Another volunteer just entered the picture looking for a permanent marker, which means a lot of drawer wrenching and slamming, thus rocking the computer monitor back and forth.
There is also a random full sheet of paper lying next to the computer that says, in angry red letters, "PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!" I have no idea why. The halloween preparations mean that a few lady gagas are wandering around the house, there is wig sewing, shoe coloring, and glow-painting going on. Last night I turned a corner to face a fully masked Storm Trooper. I do have a mario costume put together, but have decided not to travel the 5 hours to get to the halloween party in the interest of having some peace and quiet. As much as that can be achieved in Senegal, at least.
I know I will be an excellent grad school student, and that I am ready to work hard for the right program. I have extensive experience, speak a few languages, love aquatic science and fish almost to the point of obsession, and would be happy to move anywhere to attend a good program (as long as its not in africa, though, sorry). Compared to the people in america, though, or in research stations around the world, with air conditioning, fast internet, career advising services, and coffee shops where one can liesurely write a stellar essay while drinking espresso and eating a chocolate muffin...how can I possibly put together a successful application???
But I will. Somehow. So, I'll stop blog posting now and get back to the somewhat functional madness. Wish me luck : /
Anyways, what prompted me to finally update this here blog is the fact that Im actually supposed to be writing a statement of purpose for grad school. I have a vague idea of what I will write, and am slowly working on an outline. However, I wish there were some way I could express to the admissions committees who will eventually see me as one more black and white piece of paper in the pile, just how animated of a situation is necessary for me to wrangle that sheet of paper into existence in the first place.
I am currently sitting in a regional house, one day before halloween. All of the appliances somehow managed to break around the same time, so three of us are all squashed together at the one desk in the house where we are trying to get stuff done with the few machines we do have. I am attempting to type up a professional and convincing essay for potential grad schools, while the monitor flicks on and off due to the volunteer to my left who is messing with electrical wires in an attempt to get the phone to work, while he shouts out the window in Wolof (a local language). The volunteer to my right is working on her halloween costume, and trying to coax a very stubborn printer into printing out a picture of a handgun. The gun has thus far deigned only to come out as either the size of a paperclip, or too large to fit on the paper. Another volunteer behind us is trying to get a fan to work so we wont all die of heat stroke, but the already heavily duct-taped blades and electrical cord are making that difficult. I am drinking coffee that someone made using salty sink water instead of filtered freshwater (which is delivered weekly to the house by a man on a donkey drawn cart) so my coffee tastes like a vaguely hazelnut flavored ocean. Another volunteer just entered the picture looking for a permanent marker, which means a lot of drawer wrenching and slamming, thus rocking the computer monitor back and forth.
There is also a random full sheet of paper lying next to the computer that says, in angry red letters, "PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE!" I have no idea why. The halloween preparations mean that a few lady gagas are wandering around the house, there is wig sewing, shoe coloring, and glow-painting going on. Last night I turned a corner to face a fully masked Storm Trooper. I do have a mario costume put together, but have decided not to travel the 5 hours to get to the halloween party in the interest of having some peace and quiet. As much as that can be achieved in Senegal, at least.
I know I will be an excellent grad school student, and that I am ready to work hard for the right program. I have extensive experience, speak a few languages, love aquatic science and fish almost to the point of obsession, and would be happy to move anywhere to attend a good program (as long as its not in africa, though, sorry). Compared to the people in america, though, or in research stations around the world, with air conditioning, fast internet, career advising services, and coffee shops where one can liesurely write a stellar essay while drinking espresso and eating a chocolate muffin...how can I possibly put together a successful application???
But I will. Somehow. So, I'll stop blog posting now and get back to the somewhat functional madness. Wish me luck : /
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire.
I finally got back to my village, ready for a solid week of just hanging out, spending time with my family, and reading until the end of Ramadan, when I will get back to work. Sadly, it was not meant to be.
Apparently, while I was gone, there was a massive rainstorm, and my entire room flooded. My mom and brothers went in there and piled everything on top of my bed, and my mom moved some of the stuff to her room in big rice sacks. If youve ever experienced constant muggy/rainy weather, then you know how quickly things mold. A lot of my books, bags, and clothing literally disintegrated. There was also a large moldy dead thing in the corner that I made my brother remove for me. As I found out last rainy season, Im allergic to the mold, so the rash spreading up both of my arms has pretty much taken over my entire body in the last 24 hours. Luckily, my family is amazing, and they told me to just sit, relax, and deal with it tomorrow. So, since they had taken off my mattress and sheets, and everything I own was piled on my bed, I just slept in my moms room. I would have started cleaning out my hut today, but I had to come into Mbour to get a new phone, which was much easier than I expected! I was also able to find some medicine for the rash, so hopefully that will be taken care of soon.
I do have good news, though! In a random burst of intelligence, I hung up my bag of electronics, checkbook, letters from friends and family, and passport right before leaving my village, so none of it was affected! Also, Pippin is fine, which is way more important to me than all the stuff that got ruined.
Anyways, I thought Id write a quick note on one of the many strange things they do here in Senegal. This morning I had to withdraw money from the bank (where I have been going for the last year and a half, btw)and the woman behind the counter was adamant that the signature in their computer did not match the one I had signed on my check, and thus refused to give me money. The same signature was also on my passport, bank ID card, and the back of the check...ridiculous. So, after I made it crystal clear that I would not be leaving without my money, and was glad to wait all day holding up the line, she gave me a post it note and made me sign it over and over again while I looked at the one in their computer system until it was exactly the same.
When I studied abroad in Switzerland, a similar thing happened. I walked into the post office, and went up to a counter to pay for a package. The teller looked at me like I was crazy, and just pointed to a machine that dispenses numbers for waiting in line, about 50 yards away. She and I were literally the only people in the building. I walked over, got my number, she hit the button to officially call me over, and I went right back to the same counter where she was perfectly friendly and happy to help me.
Yeesh.
Apparently, while I was gone, there was a massive rainstorm, and my entire room flooded. My mom and brothers went in there and piled everything on top of my bed, and my mom moved some of the stuff to her room in big rice sacks. If youve ever experienced constant muggy/rainy weather, then you know how quickly things mold. A lot of my books, bags, and clothing literally disintegrated. There was also a large moldy dead thing in the corner that I made my brother remove for me. As I found out last rainy season, Im allergic to the mold, so the rash spreading up both of my arms has pretty much taken over my entire body in the last 24 hours. Luckily, my family is amazing, and they told me to just sit, relax, and deal with it tomorrow. So, since they had taken off my mattress and sheets, and everything I own was piled on my bed, I just slept in my moms room. I would have started cleaning out my hut today, but I had to come into Mbour to get a new phone, which was much easier than I expected! I was also able to find some medicine for the rash, so hopefully that will be taken care of soon.
I do have good news, though! In a random burst of intelligence, I hung up my bag of electronics, checkbook, letters from friends and family, and passport right before leaving my village, so none of it was affected! Also, Pippin is fine, which is way more important to me than all the stuff that got ruined.
Anyways, I thought Id write a quick note on one of the many strange things they do here in Senegal. This morning I had to withdraw money from the bank (where I have been going for the last year and a half, btw)and the woman behind the counter was adamant that the signature in their computer did not match the one I had signed on my check, and thus refused to give me money. The same signature was also on my passport, bank ID card, and the back of the check...ridiculous. So, after I made it crystal clear that I would not be leaving without my money, and was glad to wait all day holding up the line, she gave me a post it note and made me sign it over and over again while I looked at the one in their computer system until it was exactly the same.
When I studied abroad in Switzerland, a similar thing happened. I walked into the post office, and went up to a counter to pay for a package. The teller looked at me like I was crazy, and just pointed to a machine that dispenses numbers for waiting in line, about 50 yards away. She and I were literally the only people in the building. I walked over, got my number, she hit the button to officially call me over, and I went right back to the same counter where she was perfectly friendly and happy to help me.
Yeesh.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Life Explosion.
During training, they advise us not to write blog posts when we are not in a good mood, or are in the middle of a frustrating situation. Lately, I've been waiting for the clouds to roll back and reveal a shining happy Senegal so that I might write an optimistic and charmingly clever blog post, but no such luck. So! Im just going to dump all of my problems onto this here blog because that's obviously the most logical and responsible thing to do.
First off, my journal was stolen, so I will be cataloging events on here in hopes of remembering them in the future. To begin, I went to the regional house for a live radio show that another volunteer and I do monthly. For some reason we now have to do it at 8pm, which meant walking around a residential area of Kaolack at night in a rainstorm hoping to find a cab. And when you think rainstorm...don't you dare imagine a lovely dark sky, the smell of spring, and the sound of rain falling on a tin roof,all being enjoyed from a porch with a mountain view where you are wrapped up in a soft blanket sipping hot chocolate with a dog by your side and perhaps an attractive man who is baking you a pie at the moment, but will come sit with you in a minute when it's done. No. Think, river of trash and mud that has just reunited with its best friend, the city-wide flooding sewer. Add in the fact that there's no electricity, so I could have literally been stepping in anything. I may not have actually seen any rats using trash as lifeboats, but I wouldn't have been surprised.
The next morning, I got a ride to Tamba, our neighboring region, because I have little work to do at my site during Ramadan, and am interested in seeing a project that other volunteers have been doing on Malaria prevention. Along the trip I managed to blow out a bike tire, for which I had no replacement, and had to beg another volunteer for her bike for the rest of the trip. Later, I was biking with another volunteer when we got separated, and some guys approached me and stole my backpack. Camera, phone, external hard drive, clothing, chess set (ok, I guess that makes sense, they probably get bored watching cows all day), and my journal which obviously they are now going to read, and post all of my deepest darkest secrets on facebook.
It was not an enjoyable experience to say the least, but, things happen, and at least Im fine! Luckily I had my glasses on my face, and my ipod in my pocket. Those are the two things I care about the most. And my shoes...which were on my feet. To be clear, this was a freak occurrence. I've never felt unsafe in this country, and everyone has been super helpful about getting me to the right authorities, lending me money, etc. The best part is that we have boxes of clothes in the regional houses where people put stuff they don't want anymore, and we can buy them back to raise money for SeneGAD (gender and development). By some freak chance, ALL of the clothes in all of the senegad boxes fit me. I now have cuter and way more clothes than I did before the incident.
Anyways, in the middle of this whole ordeal, the cutest puppy in the world wandered into the regional house and started following me around. I fed him and gave him a name and a collar. When I left to take him back to my village, though, we put him in the back of a peace corps car in a big basket that was tied and duct taped shut. We got to another volunteer's site to drop her off, and I went to check on the puppy...gone. It somehow managed to get out of the basket and jump out of the moving vehicle. Id say Im sad, but it must have been a pretty dumb dog for that to happen. So, puppy, I miss you, and love you, wish you all the best, and hope you are still alive somewhere. Oh, and I'm mad at you for abandoning me. Jerk.
Now, I am in Tamba, trying to decide how to manage my time this week. My family is worried about why I have been gone so long. I tried to explain, but mostly my dad was just mad that I am not there (not sure why?) but I could really use some time to relax for a day now that this is all taken care of, and I will no longer have easy internet/etc. near my site (no computer anymore). I have started looking at grad schools and am really excited! Its time to start getting organized, and officially apply in a few months. I also offered to help install new volunteers this week, which is two hours closer to where I am now, than my site is. I miss my family and my cat, though. Either I will go back to site tomorrow, or be gone for even another week trying to get my stuff back in order and help install the newbies.
Lastly, and yes I know this is TMI, I must have amoebas or something because Im running to the bathroom like every ten minutes. I don't know how I'm supposed to travel like this. Yeesh. So, most ridiculous week ever, I still need to get it all sorted out, but I did get to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in a long time, which was amazing! And, the Tamba house is quiet, clean, has a functional house computer, projector for movies, and super cute house cats. I think Im staying here for the day at least. THANK YOU all for reading! Life is insane here right now, but, as always, everything is fine overall : ) Have a good day!
I know this is random, but I am including a picture of my own personal Happy Place. North Carolina in the fall. This is the type of image that pops into my head when I need a mental escape (like when my puppy falls out of a friggin truck). The Happy Place also frequently involves waterfalls, fresh blueberries, coffee, and/or warm raspberry scones.
First off, my journal was stolen, so I will be cataloging events on here in hopes of remembering them in the future. To begin, I went to the regional house for a live radio show that another volunteer and I do monthly. For some reason we now have to do it at 8pm, which meant walking around a residential area of Kaolack at night in a rainstorm hoping to find a cab. And when you think rainstorm...don't you dare imagine a lovely dark sky, the smell of spring, and the sound of rain falling on a tin roof,all being enjoyed from a porch with a mountain view where you are wrapped up in a soft blanket sipping hot chocolate with a dog by your side and perhaps an attractive man who is baking you a pie at the moment, but will come sit with you in a minute when it's done. No. Think, river of trash and mud that has just reunited with its best friend, the city-wide flooding sewer. Add in the fact that there's no electricity, so I could have literally been stepping in anything. I may not have actually seen any rats using trash as lifeboats, but I wouldn't have been surprised.
The next morning, I got a ride to Tamba, our neighboring region, because I have little work to do at my site during Ramadan, and am interested in seeing a project that other volunteers have been doing on Malaria prevention. Along the trip I managed to blow out a bike tire, for which I had no replacement, and had to beg another volunteer for her bike for the rest of the trip. Later, I was biking with another volunteer when we got separated, and some guys approached me and stole my backpack. Camera, phone, external hard drive, clothing, chess set (ok, I guess that makes sense, they probably get bored watching cows all day), and my journal which obviously they are now going to read, and post all of my deepest darkest secrets on facebook.
It was not an enjoyable experience to say the least, but, things happen, and at least Im fine! Luckily I had my glasses on my face, and my ipod in my pocket. Those are the two things I care about the most. And my shoes...which were on my feet. To be clear, this was a freak occurrence. I've never felt unsafe in this country, and everyone has been super helpful about getting me to the right authorities, lending me money, etc. The best part is that we have boxes of clothes in the regional houses where people put stuff they don't want anymore, and we can buy them back to raise money for SeneGAD (gender and development). By some freak chance, ALL of the clothes in all of the senegad boxes fit me. I now have cuter and way more clothes than I did before the incident.
Anyways, in the middle of this whole ordeal, the cutest puppy in the world wandered into the regional house and started following me around. I fed him and gave him a name and a collar. When I left to take him back to my village, though, we put him in the back of a peace corps car in a big basket that was tied and duct taped shut. We got to another volunteer's site to drop her off, and I went to check on the puppy...gone. It somehow managed to get out of the basket and jump out of the moving vehicle. Id say Im sad, but it must have been a pretty dumb dog for that to happen. So, puppy, I miss you, and love you, wish you all the best, and hope you are still alive somewhere. Oh, and I'm mad at you for abandoning me. Jerk.
Now, I am in Tamba, trying to decide how to manage my time this week. My family is worried about why I have been gone so long. I tried to explain, but mostly my dad was just mad that I am not there (not sure why?) but I could really use some time to relax for a day now that this is all taken care of, and I will no longer have easy internet/etc. near my site (no computer anymore). I have started looking at grad schools and am really excited! Its time to start getting organized, and officially apply in a few months. I also offered to help install new volunteers this week, which is two hours closer to where I am now, than my site is. I miss my family and my cat, though. Either I will go back to site tomorrow, or be gone for even another week trying to get my stuff back in order and help install the newbies.
Lastly, and yes I know this is TMI, I must have amoebas or something because Im running to the bathroom like every ten minutes. I don't know how I'm supposed to travel like this. Yeesh. So, most ridiculous week ever, I still need to get it all sorted out, but I did get to see a lot of people I hadn't seen in a long time, which was amazing! And, the Tamba house is quiet, clean, has a functional house computer, projector for movies, and super cute house cats. I think Im staying here for the day at least. THANK YOU all for reading! Life is insane here right now, but, as always, everything is fine overall : ) Have a good day!
I know this is random, but I am including a picture of my own personal Happy Place. North Carolina in the fall. This is the type of image that pops into my head when I need a mental escape (like when my puppy falls out of a friggin truck). The Happy Place also frequently involves waterfalls, fresh blueberries, coffee, and/or warm raspberry scones.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Didn't it Rain.
Rainy season is officially here! While my memories of last rainy season (July-September) are one big blur of long, muggy, hot, itchy, mosquito-ey days, I am super excited for it this time around. I had forgotten about the cold thunderstorms, the beautiful sky before and after a rain, the tadpole puddles, and the drastic transformation of the landscape from a sandy wasteland, to an all-out awesome jungle. There are gorgeous birds everywhere, I don't have to go to the well for water as often, and I can now plant beans, corn, okra, bissap, and moringa in my yard with little to no maintenance required!
Anyways, I've spent the past couple of weeks helping with nutritional gardening seminars in the Kaolack region. I also spent a week visiting another volunteer at her site, which was really fun : ) But, once again, I'll let photos do my talking. Enjoy!
Clouds before a storm:
Weeding the yard with a hand hoe:
The Seereer Delta, amazing saltwater/mangrove swimming spot:
Morgan's hut, and dog, Tiya (which means Peanut):
Gardening tournee:
My closest neighbors, and the awesome French ppl who own a pizza place in Mbour:
Anyways, I've spent the past couple of weeks helping with nutritional gardening seminars in the Kaolack region. I also spent a week visiting another volunteer at her site, which was really fun : ) But, once again, I'll let photos do my talking. Enjoy!
Clouds before a storm:
Weeding the yard with a hand hoe:
The Seereer Delta, amazing saltwater/mangrove swimming spot:
Morgan's hut, and dog, Tiya (which means Peanut):
Gardening tournee:
My closest neighbors, and the awesome French ppl who own a pizza place in Mbour:
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