Saying Goodbye

Somehow 2 years has flown by. I didn't see the end coming so quickly.

The past few months have been incredibly busy. Since our COS (Close of Service) conference in February I've been running around Senegal, hosting a good friend from the States,finishing up projects, co-directing our regional girls' leadership camp, and tying up the end of my time here. I apologize for the lack of blog posts, but I hope to post more pictures from all of these events once I make it home (my computer has finally given up after 2 years in the desert so I'm waiting to upload those).

I left village last Sunday and no other occasion in my life has really been so bittersweet. Despite the village, people and culture being so different from anything I'd ever experienced, I had really made a life for myself in Sedo Abass, and was truly sad to see it end; and because it was so different, it's end had a degree of finality I'd never experienced. No longer will I wake up outside, to the sound of the morning call to prayer and animals milling around my compound. No longer will I have to draw water from a spigot, and shower from a bucket. No longer will I eat lunch around one large lunch bowl with my host-family. No longer will I greet everyone in Pulaar, or really have any reason to speak Pulaar on a regular basis. My days will not be punctuated by the five calls to prayer. I will no longer have a mid-day siesta, where everyone is merely trying to escape the heat. These factors will soon become irrelevant. And to someone who's been encompassed by them for 2 years, it's going to be hard to return to a world where they mean nothing.

Saying goodbye to my village was one of the hardest parts of being in Senegal. I'm leaving some great friends here in Senegal, and an amazing family and community that took care of me for 2 years. I've grown to love some parts of Senegalese culture, and will miss the Senegalese hospitality that has welcomed me time and again during my time here. That being said, I am also excited to return home, reunite with family and friends, and meet the newest addition to my family, my nephew! Therefore, you can see how hard this time is for me, being pulled emotionally in two opposite directions. I will spend 6 weeks in Europe before coming home, traveling with friends to give myself some time to readjust to the Western world without the pressures of being home. I cannot wait to see all of you in the near future, and thank you so much for reading about my experiences here!

Outside Perspective

As my time here in Senegal is quickly approaching an end, it's hard to find fun things to write about, as everything seems so normal. The daily routine, my constant surroundings, the language I speak.. while 2 years ago I couldn't even imagine it, is now my norm. Therefore it's nice to have visitors to gain a little perspective on your situation; they notice and point out things that no longer strike you as different, and remind you that you're doing something that not many people do. While I haven't had any visitors (ahem, you guys only have 4 months left to make the trip over!) my friend Claire's mom and sister recently visited, and made it all the way to Claire's village in Matam. They wrote beautiful guest posts on Claire's blog that I just had to share: Mom, Sister (Annie).

Enjoy!

Happy Holidays!

The past few weeks have been busy busy on the Peace Corps side of my life: new agriculture volunteers came to install (the last new group of volunteers before I end my service) and we celebrated Peace Corps' 50th anniversary in Senegal here in Matam to compliment the celebrations taking place nationwide. I did 2 radio spots (all in Pulaar, and one of which was a LIVE show! That was stressful.) and in general a whole lot of Peace Corps public relations. Getting back to my village routine after running around to different villages was such a treat this last week!

I just want to take a few moments to wish all of my faithful blog readers a very happy holidays! I hope you all have a lovely holiday with your families and celebrate with a lot of love. All the best in 2014!

And speaking of exciting things coming up in 2014, I'm going to do a quick plug for my favorite project of the year, our annual Girls' Leadership Camp. We are starting fundraising for next year's camp now and I urge you, if you at all can, please donate to this project. Our camp this year was one of the most rewarding experiences I've had: by working with young girls and empowering them to push the social restraints on their future, this project has the possibility to truly change lives for the better here.
So please, in the spirit of the holidays, share what you can spare with the young women of Matam, Senegal: http://1.usa.gov/1fBjwdi and spread the word! Thank you!

Baby crazy!

The past few months have been baby season in my village. And not just human babies. The animals also cleverly time their births with rainy season so the newborns have plenty (or at least some) greenery to eat, and the humans just all happen to coincide about 9 months after cold season (when everyone sleeps inside).

All the baby calves mean lots of fresh milk for me!

My house has had 2 new babies in the past few months, both of my host-brothers' wives have given birth. The first came in July and the second was born just 2 weeks ago. 

Mama Dia and baby Hawa Sall (my namesake)

Aissata and baby Oumar Sall

Pregnancies are not something you talk about here. A woman can be ready to pop, and she may still shyly deny that she's pregnant. It's considered bad luck since you never know if the child will make it, and historically, these women have every right to be weary. In my village many women do make it to the health post about a kilometer away, but many more remote villages rely on their midwives for most of the births. Hence, a baby is not discussed until you have a little one laying in your lap.

However, once you have the baby, plenty of fun Senegalese/Pulaar (not sure which overlap with what ethnic groups here) traditions to uphold! First off, the women and her baby do not leave her room for 7 days. This is both to allow the woman to rest, but also to keep the mother and child safe from spirits. The baby is also always lain with a knife under it's pillow for further protection.
After 7 days, you have the Inde (Baptism/naming ceremony and celebration). A baby generally has a few names, the mother and father both pick a name for the child (the man's is the official name, confirmed by the mosque and on all official documents), and names here have many common or familial nick names. Also, you always name your child after someone in your family or friends, so everyone has a namesake (or Tokora, in Pulaar).
For example, my host-brother named his new daughter Fatimata Sall, after his aunt, while his wife named the daughter Hawa Sall, after me. Both names are used interchangeably, as well as Fati and Fama, nicknames for Fatimata. The most interesting nickname is that you can literally call someone 'aunt' if they are named after your aunt, so she get's called that on occasion as well.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoy the influx of babies, as they give me an easy activity during social interactions; it's ok if I'm not following all of the village gossip in Pulaar because I've taken a child off someone's hands! Not that anyone expects me to join the gossip, but with the child in my hands, my presence has purpose.

Tabaski, round 2

Last year, (as you may remember reading about here) Tabaski (Eid al-Adha) was my first major Senegalese holiday celebrated with my host family in village. As with all aspects of living here, it was a lot to take in and I spent most of the holiday mildly anxious, wondering what I 'needed' to do, if I was in the right place, wearing the right clothes. After a year and a half in village, celebrating this year was a much easier experience. I can even say I had fun.

This year, Tabaski fell on the 16 of October. In my village, Tabaski lasts about 3 days, but the first day is when the main event happens: the sheep slaughter. The morning is spent with the men at the mosque, and upon their return the animal is sacrificed.

The first meat cooked and eaten is the liver. 

The females spend the morning prepping the only additions to meat we will eat that day: many kilos of onions and potatoes.

The first meal is just meat and onions, eaten with bread, mid morning. 

 

Lunch follows with the only variation being the addition of potatoes (not pictured, apologies). This is all eaten again for dinner. 

The afternoon is when everyone gets dressed up and hangs out with their respective groups of friends from their age group (called fedde in Pulaar). They all bring a bowl from lunch and eat together, drink fancy beverages (soda or juice), make tea, and listen to music. This is the activity that continues for 3 (or more) days. This year I accompanied my host sister to her fedde's hang out on the first day, went to another friends' house for a wedding on the 2nd, and went to greet other village friends on the 3rd day. Given my wide range of friends, it was nice to have the freedom to visit and hang out with many different groups, rather than spend all 3 days of the holidays with one group.

Me in my Tabaski complet with my namesake, baby Hawa Sall: 

It was fun to compare my 2 Tabaski experiences, from last year to this; it's hard to really see how much I've adapted on a daily basis, but the holiday is a very concrete event that can highlight how things have changed. I felt a lot more comfortable with my family and my village, and therefore really enjoyed the celebrations. Last year I thought people would have expectations of me, but really they are just happy I'm there, celebrating with them in whatever capacity I choose to present. And the fact that I can take pictures of them in their fancy Tabaski clothes doesn't hurt my popularity... 

 

Seasons in Senegal

One major adjustment in Senegal has been the seasons, or probably the lack thereof. We get 3 major seasons, but in my perception it's all just variations of hot.

The longest and most arduous by far is hot season (in Pulaar: ceedu, pronounced che-doo). Spanning from March to July, each day is easily over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, but usually in the 115 range (or around 48 degrees Celcius). Due to this incredible handicap to most daily activities, many wake early and try to get all the necessary tasks and labor done early (fetching water, sweeping the compound, gathering wood, etc). That way, one can easily stay under shade structures for the rest of the day, and avoid any prolonged exposure to the sun. What I most often hear if I try to walk anywhere after 10am is "Naange ine wooli!" which translates to "the sun is hot!" and then the speaker tries to stop me from going anywhere and sit under their shade structure. Almost everyone sleeps outside during hot season, I most definitely have to because my room is cement bricks with a tin roof which heats up like an oven.

Hot season is followed by rainy season (Pulaar: Ndungu, pronounced n-doo-n-goo), from about July to October. Of course, this varies greatly throughout Senegal, as the rainy season up in the Sahel is far different from the green southern regions. Whereas down there rain comes at least every few days, our rainy season this year was averaging once a week. The rains are pretty heavy; a big downpour lasts up to a few hours. In the interim of rain, it is still pretty hot. Just after a rain it cools down quite a bit, but that often doesn't last more than half a day. Also with rainy season comes the birth of many insects that cannot survive in the harsh desert during other times year, most annoyingly: mosquitos and flies. The days are spend constantly swatting and as soon as the sun sets I have to put on bug spray. I still sleep outside except for when the heavy rains hit at night. All in all, I think rainy season is my least favorite, at least here in the North. It has the miserable heat of hot season, with added humidity, and flies all day.

Generally speaking, October and November are less affiliated with any particular season and more so represent the short Indian summer between rainy and cold season.

Now on to my favorite: the short but sweet cold season (Pulaar: Ndaabunde, pronounced n-dah-boon-deh). "Cold" is incredibly relative, as it usually means an average of 70 degrees F during the day (about 21 degrees C). Those few months (December-February) are filled with the ability to sleep inside, and hang out inside during the day. I feel a lot more freedom because my days are not dictated by the weather/heat.

After living through 2 years of this cycle, I am way too excited for the temperate California summer that will greet me upon my return!

Re-integration

Contrary to some understandings of Peace Corps, we do get a fair amount of vacation time for our 2 years of service.  Thankfully, as being in country does get tedious as the newness wears off and the nostalgia for home kicks in. I am choosing not to go home during my 2 years, though many volunteers do fit a trip into the states during their service (especially those on the east coast, it's only 8 hours to Dakar). Luckily, the parents and I had an opportunity to meet up in Spain for 2 weeks, and I tacked on another week in London with some friends. (This vacations was slyly timed during Ramadan, as village life dies down quite a bit during this time, though I did fit in one last day of fasting with my community upon my return.) My escape into the western world was incredible. Seeing my parents for the first time in 17 months was amazing. Spain was beautiful and delicious, and fairly reminiscent of the California countryside, and wine country, that I miss so much. London was too fun, the city would have won me over but seeing some good old friends really sealed the deal.
However, coming back to Senegal was both exciting and difficult. I was happy to get back to the life I've established here, but also thoroughly unsure how I'd deal with readjusting back to the quality of life... Going back to first world luxuries is easy enough, even despite my new perspective, but my first bucket bath back in village was a less pleasant reunion. It's taken some time, but after the memories of delicious food and comforts wane I'm finding my place more easily back in Senegal. Vacation was a nice reminder of the world out there and what awaits in the future, but I'm getting myself back on the horse cart (literally) and getting back into village life.