Peace Corps isn't easy. No one ever said it was nor did I have the illusion that it would be. But what I didn't expect was this. Aside from feeling unproductive 80% of the time I also get waves of guilt (not the Jewish kind), boredom, frustration, unhappiness and general dissatisfaction. The good news is that I know that this all will pass. Things will get better, everyone says so, and I believe them, if I didn't, I wouldn't be here anymore. Things don't just get better with the snap of my fingers though, it takes time, dedication, and perseverance. Staying in village for me has been key. Getting through the hard days is always rewarded with good days and great moments.
Christmas was hard, and not because I wanted to celebrate Christmas, nor was I upset that family and friends back home were, but it was that I knew that all my family and friends were getting together; something that I always enjoyed during college was getting together and seeing people who often I would see only once or twice a year. It wasn't even that I necessarily wanted to be there instead of here, but the simple fact that it was happening, even when I was here, in Botou, was difficult to say the least. But I did come out on the other side, and as I said there are always great moments. Christmas afternoon my host siblings said that we were going to go and do something. It came across to me as some sort of adventure and of course I said yes. It turned out that we went to pick little shriveled fruits off my least favorite tree in Senegal. A tree that during CBT would constantly attack Jordan and me at our garden, a tree that has the most painful spines, but a tree nonetheless that provides a strange, and occasionally satisfying taste of sweet and sour. Spending time with my host siblings, whether it be pulling water from the well like a donkey and watering the garden, or picking these bizarre fruits are the great moments that I rely on to keep me sane and happy at site. My siblings, the three girls in particular, are sometimes the siblings that I never had growing up as a kid. I give them a hard time when they do silly or stupid things, I roll my eyes with them behind the back of their mother and watch them giggle, and I help them with their French homework.
The other frustration of being at site is feeling guilty. I feel guilty when I read, I feel guilty when I cook food in my hut to supplement my diet of rice, I feel guilty when I use a pen that works much better than the pens my host siblings use for school, and generally there isn't much I can do about any of these guilt ridden daily happenings. I still read in my hut because it gives me a piece of mind. Reading is now, and always has been my sanctuary, my escape from reality, even if for a little bit. While I could (and sometimes do) read outside my hut, I am then surrounded by a group of kids from the village who can't read or participate in what I'm doing, so begin to chatter in Bambara. I also feel guilty about cooking beans in my hut. While the food at site is particularly good for Senegalese food, it isn't varied. Most lunches are either peanut sauce or fish and rice and dinners are corn couscous with a bean sauce, often with moringa, but usually with few actual beans themselves. Protein is obviously lacking in their diets so I have taken to cooking myself a cup of beans every few days to supplement. Sometimes to the point that I'm not as hungry for lunch, and this my host mother, in particular, notices. It's frustrating because I don't love the food in Senegal, but I do eat it and sometimes I genuinely like the food, but I do feel the need to eat some beans now and again. Maybe it's the language barrier right now that doesn't quite allow me to express what I'm feeling or thinking, but I try the best I can to explain and hope that either the message gets across and they get used to it, or we can laugh and joke about it whenever it becomes an issue.
The point of frustration about the lack of productivity is the one thing I know will get better in the months to come, guaranteed. Right now I have my garden seeded, I started a nursery with my host mom and dad under the water chateau in my uncle's garden, and now that the harvesting of peanuts is basically finished, people should be around more so that I can spend time in other compounds. But sometimes I think about whether my presence in village really means something to the villagers other than the fact that they have an American living in their village. I know that at times it truly does, that they enjoy talking to me and learning about American culture and ideas, but at times I feel like I'm enduring many more daily struggles and personally getting a lot more out of my time at site then they are. Part of that may be because I can't see, and may not see, the effects of my work at site.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Halima Fofana
Life has changed once again in Peace Corps Senegal. This time, for Halima Fofana! I am now living at my permanent site, Botou, Tambacounda, Senegal. It's a village of 900 people according to the village chief and 2500 according to another source. It lies just 10km outside of Tamba, the capitol of the region. I installed on Tuesday December 2, 2014. That morning a group of us as new volunteers visited the prefect (like the governor) of Tamba, the head of the gendarmerie, the head of the police, the head of agriculture for Tamba and the head of Eaux et Forests, the body that governs the national forests in Senegal. While we were at the Eaux et Forets office, Djitte, one of my supervisors got a call from my host dad Bouna, because everyone in Botou was ready, waiting to dance me into the village.
We went and picked up all of my stuff and drove to Botou. Upon arriving, the women were gathered in a circle dancing and singing my name. They had cleverly made a drum out of a gourd bowl placed upside down in a bucket of water. I danced with them and clapped as they danced. Before I knew it, I was whisked away, covered in a white shroud and walked to my hut with a group of 15 or so women. It was simply amazing. I got to my hut and when I turned back into the hut from the back yard all of my belongings were in my hut! My hut is made of cement/mud and wood for the structure itself and the roof is made out of grasses from the fields placed on top of a conical beam structure. This kind of hut is ideal because the straw roof keeps things relatively cool. I have a shade structure/porch that faces the other huts in the compound. Then there is a window facing the garden and a door to my backyard and to my bathroom. I sleep on a stick bed frame made by a man who lives in Jam Jam, a bush village not far from Botou, that was commissioned by my ancien. I also have a great work table- made by my ancien and our uncle Mahdu. I have made a few additions to my perfect new abode. I painted two rectangles inside with chalkboard paint to keep lists, etc. I painted an image of Vermont on the outside of my hut. Seeing as both Connor and I are from the wonderful and beautiful 802 it seemed only fitting. Now I am hoping to secure the next volunteer's home state. I finally feel settled into the hut. Just a week in and I built a stand for the clay pot I bought that will keep my water nice and cool during the hot season. I've planted some vegetables in my nurseries and made a compost as well as started experimenting with some basil and nasturtium container gardens. I also planted some sunflower seeds from High Mowing Seeds on the edge of a berm, but I have no idea if they are going to grow- stay tuned.
My host family consists of two families. My host dad Bouna is the de facto village chief as his elder brother lives in Tamba now. He is married to Raki and they have nine kids, six who live in Botou, two who go to high school in Tamba and one who lives in another village. The kids range from Sorkhna who is about 15-16 to Tene who is a year and a half. There there is Bouna's younger brother Cooli who's wife is Seynabu and their child Fili who is a bit older than Tene. Another brother of Bouna's also lives in the compound but is in and out. Then next door is Mahdu and his wife Muya Mahdu is another brother of Bouna's. Their sister Masirrah also lives with them. She is deaf and watching people speak to her with their hands has been one of the most interesting parts of my short time here so far. Mahdu has 5 kids and works at the water tower that the town recently got. He's also a woodworker and farms. All of the men in the family farm, peanuts and corn are their main sources of income. The women sort of garden and do all of the cooking, cleaning and child rearing. The one thing about the men in the Fofana family is that they are among the most kind, patient, and interested/interesting men I've met so far during my time in Senegal. They will sit with me as I ask them questions, they won't yell at me to speak as Raki has done, and they are very sweet to their young children.
It has been exhausting getting used to this new pace of life. I got strep throat again...But otherwise I'm learning to become a more patient, more relaxed person. So much work happens, but slowly, day by day. They say that here in the Peace Corps, days go by slowly and months rush by. I've felt that, but I also love spending the day with the kids in my family, wandering around my village, or helping in the peanut fields. The manual labor is exhausting in itself in Senegal. Everyday I pull water from a bidon from the well in our compound, 30 meters down, which is pretty deep for a water table here. Harvesting peanuts, and the work they put into their fields is amazing but sometimes I wonder if their physical exertion is worth the amount of money they get for all of their hard labor. I guess at this point it is their only option. Let's just hope that the rains will fall harder and more frequently in the years to come!
We went and picked up all of my stuff and drove to Botou. Upon arriving, the women were gathered in a circle dancing and singing my name. They had cleverly made a drum out of a gourd bowl placed upside down in a bucket of water. I danced with them and clapped as they danced. Before I knew it, I was whisked away, covered in a white shroud and walked to my hut with a group of 15 or so women. It was simply amazing. I got to my hut and when I turned back into the hut from the back yard all of my belongings were in my hut! My hut is made of cement/mud and wood for the structure itself and the roof is made out of grasses from the fields placed on top of a conical beam structure. This kind of hut is ideal because the straw roof keeps things relatively cool. I have a shade structure/porch that faces the other huts in the compound. Then there is a window facing the garden and a door to my backyard and to my bathroom. I sleep on a stick bed frame made by a man who lives in Jam Jam, a bush village not far from Botou, that was commissioned by my ancien. I also have a great work table- made by my ancien and our uncle Mahdu. I have made a few additions to my perfect new abode. I painted two rectangles inside with chalkboard paint to keep lists, etc. I painted an image of Vermont on the outside of my hut. Seeing as both Connor and I are from the wonderful and beautiful 802 it seemed only fitting. Now I am hoping to secure the next volunteer's home state. I finally feel settled into the hut. Just a week in and I built a stand for the clay pot I bought that will keep my water nice and cool during the hot season. I've planted some vegetables in my nurseries and made a compost as well as started experimenting with some basil and nasturtium container gardens. I also planted some sunflower seeds from High Mowing Seeds on the edge of a berm, but I have no idea if they are going to grow- stay tuned.
My host family consists of two families. My host dad Bouna is the de facto village chief as his elder brother lives in Tamba now. He is married to Raki and they have nine kids, six who live in Botou, two who go to high school in Tamba and one who lives in another village. The kids range from Sorkhna who is about 15-16 to Tene who is a year and a half. There there is Bouna's younger brother Cooli who's wife is Seynabu and their child Fili who is a bit older than Tene. Another brother of Bouna's also lives in the compound but is in and out. Then next door is Mahdu and his wife Muya Mahdu is another brother of Bouna's. Their sister Masirrah also lives with them. She is deaf and watching people speak to her with their hands has been one of the most interesting parts of my short time here so far. Mahdu has 5 kids and works at the water tower that the town recently got. He's also a woodworker and farms. All of the men in the family farm, peanuts and corn are their main sources of income. The women sort of garden and do all of the cooking, cleaning and child rearing. The one thing about the men in the Fofana family is that they are among the most kind, patient, and interested/interesting men I've met so far during my time in Senegal. They will sit with me as I ask them questions, they won't yell at me to speak as Raki has done, and they are very sweet to their young children.
It has been exhausting getting used to this new pace of life. I got strep throat again...But otherwise I'm learning to become a more patient, more relaxed person. So much work happens, but slowly, day by day. They say that here in the Peace Corps, days go by slowly and months rush by. I've felt that, but I also love spending the day with the kids in my family, wandering around my village, or helping in the peanut fields. The manual labor is exhausting in itself in Senegal. Everyday I pull water from a bidon from the well in our compound, 30 meters down, which is pretty deep for a water table here. Harvesting peanuts, and the work they put into their fields is amazing but sometimes I wonder if their physical exertion is worth the amount of money they get for all of their hard labor. I guess at this point it is their only option. Let's just hope that the rains will fall harder and more frequently in the years to come!
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| Always a Vermonter |
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| work table |
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| Bed, with my mosquito net cocoon, front door |
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| My roof |
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| Bathroom; I hope to plant a banana tree there in that hole |
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| backdoor; outside yard; I do my laundry here |
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| bathroom: we call it douche here |
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| My garden |
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Moving to Botu
Today is the day! It feels a lot like the Dr. Seuss book, Oh, the places you'll go right now. Today after visits to government officials in Tamba, I will be driven in my last official Peace Corps approved ride to my village of 2500 people and install into Botu. I will also be accompanied by a current Agfo volunteer, a Mandinka speaker (in the Mande family) for support and company, a nice tradition. As I install we will walk around and greet the village leaders, Almami, village chief (my host father), among others. Then they will move all of my stuff into my hut...if they can fit everything, and set off! It's exciting, scary, and freeing all at the same time.
After install I'll spend 5 concentrated weeks at my site, learning as much Bambara as I can, soaking up the daily life, and settling into my new home. I've bought chalkboard paint to paint the inside walls of my hut, pictures to hang, maps to stretch out, and a beautiful garden to start planting in. The 5 week challenge is a Peace Corps tradition where volunteers try and spend 5 consecutive weeks (35 nights) in your village. This does not preclude a trip or two to skype with my family, but it is a concerted effort to show your village that you are there for them, to live with them, and to immerse yourself in what will become your life. I'm ready.
I want to thank you all for reading and commenting about my training with Peace Corps Senegal, the struggles and the successes, but do stay tuned. This is only the beginning. Now is when the real work begins, the real work partners forged, and the relationships formed across cultures.
This is where my two years in Peace Corps will be:
After install I'll spend 5 concentrated weeks at my site, learning as much Bambara as I can, soaking up the daily life, and settling into my new home. I've bought chalkboard paint to paint the inside walls of my hut, pictures to hang, maps to stretch out, and a beautiful garden to start planting in. The 5 week challenge is a Peace Corps tradition where volunteers try and spend 5 consecutive weeks (35 nights) in your village. This does not preclude a trip or two to skype with my family, but it is a concerted effort to show your village that you are there for them, to live with them, and to immerse yourself in what will become your life. I'm ready.
I want to thank you all for reading and commenting about my training with Peace Corps Senegal, the struggles and the successes, but do stay tuned. This is only the beginning. Now is when the real work begins, the real work partners forged, and the relationships formed across cultures.
This is where my two years in Peace Corps will be:
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