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.

Day in the Life

Peace Corps Senegal recently released an excellent video about the day in the life of a student from a village in the Kaolack region of Senegal. While there are a few differences between the video and my village, it is a very good representation of what life is like here for kids. Take a look!

So, what do you eat?

I have to say, it's one of the most common questions, yet I have failed to address it in this blog! So here it is, my food post.

In a lot of ways, it's simple. I eat the same things most days..

For lunch it's a community bowl, usually rice with one fish (fried, stuffed with pepper and spices) and veggies (seasonal; currently we've been getting eggplant, potato, cabbage, and squash). Other lunch dishes are rice with a peanut sauce with okra; or, a millet, bean and fish mush with oil (a lot better than it sounds I promise, though my family rarely makes it).

A bowl of the more meager variety, no fresh fish, but rice and veggies, dried fish and beans

For dinner it's a dish called haako (the dish has the same name as 'leaves'.. because that's what it is, leaf sauce!). It's made with bean leaves, peanuts, and fish all ground together poured over cornmeal 'cous-cous' called lecciri (pronouced: leh-chee-ree). I put 'cous-cous' in quotes because it's a lot grainier than the cous-cous you can buy in the states. Another dinner dish is called bassi which is this onion soup-esk dish with peanut butter and tomato sauce poured over lecciri. On other nights we have lecciri and fresh or reconstituted milk. My house most often eats the haako, but these are the 3 staples.

Haako (with beans!) and corn lecciri

I've saved breakfast for last because I eat that on my own, and therefore it varies. My family eats plain bread and coffee (though I argue to call it hot sugar water) so I chose to eat breakfast on my own. Sometimes I still buy bread and peanut butter, but more often I eat oatmeal, or a Clif bar, or if I've saved some lecciri from dinner the night before I'll make that with milk.

Otherwise, there's a lot of snacks as well. My good friend Ndiabel loves to feed me other than mealtimes, this last week alone she cooked a few meal/snacks: sweet potato tomato onion sauce, bean sauce, and fish and  fries with onion sauce (as you can tell, the same ingredients are recycled in many manners). Also, buying snacks on the street is easy enough, and range from tiny bags of roasted peanuts, frozen juice in bags (creme glace/"ice cream"), roasted corn (seasonal) to deep fried goodies such as beignets (donut holes) or fatayas (dough stuffed with onion sauces, sometimes fish). This is not including your usual selection at the corner shop: biscuits, cookies, cheese puffs (which are hilariously called Crax) and others of the "junk food" variety.

Though of all this great selection, my favorite snack has to be Vache Qui Rit (Laughing Cow cheese) with Mauritanian biscuits, occasionally with dried fruit if the care-package gods have blessed me. I have appeased my foodie side by convincing myself that Vache Qui Rit is something like Brie...

The best for last being.. frozen kossam! (Kossam is sour milk, or essentially yogurt... meaning frozen yogurt.) Often sold in quarter liter bags, it makes those 115 degree days bearable and delicious. Slice up one of those huge mangoes that are now in season and sold on the streets, and I think it almost puts any froyo shop in CA to shame.

Moringa, the Miracle Tree!

Throughout training as Env/Health volunteers we were fed a few key buzz-word projects that are our go-to work in all communities of Senegal. Among the maternal and child health, malaria work or general health infrastructure sessions we learned about the Moringa tree, also known as a "miracle tree" in the developing world due to its many nutritional properties and uses. They really sold it to us: It's full of vitamins and nutrients and is fairly easy to add to the diet: people can eat the leaves, either in leaf sauce or by drying it to make powder that you can put in any dish. Besides it's incredible nutritional composition, we could use the tree for everything! Live fencing; wind-breaks; alley-cropping... Lesson was: plant moringa, it's good for the soil and the people! Don't believe such an amazing tree exists? Read the wiki on Moringa for further info.

At first I was quite skeptical.. how can this one tree be so magical? Upon tasting the fresh leaves-- peppery, almost arugula-like--I started to cave.. I can get on board with a substitute for my favorite salad base. Then (being academically trained in human-environment interactions) I thought about the consequences of planting moringa everywhere.. Is it local? No, it's native to Northern India. Additionally, it's a drought-resistant species that is actually called "Nebedai" in local languages because the British colonists in The Gambia called it "Never die".. sounds like a possibly invasive species. So I remained uncertain about the seemingly wonderful tree.

But as I've been living in the desert for the past year I've realized one thing... I live in a sandy wasteland. There are very very few trees, and the only ones that are around usually have thorns. I've come to the conclusion, that in the Sahel, any living tree is better than no tree. And given it's drought-resistant qualities, it seems like a tree that can hack it in the Sahel. So I've started planting Moringa. Why not? Most people are willing to eat it; we already eat leaf sauce for dinner every night, but it's currently being made out of the more readily available bean leaves. And even we do nothing with these trees but keep them alive, that will be an environmental improvement in and of itself... things will actually look green.

I've started at my village's primary school. Working with the mothers of primary school children, the children themselves and any one else around to help, I've direct-seeded Moringa around the perimeter of the school. So far we've planted about 25 trees (all were sprouted and alive when I left village a few days ago... keeping my fingers crossed that they're still getting watered without my watchful presence in village..). As people see and get excited about these initial sproutlings, we will continue around the rest of the school, hopefully planting up to 100+ trees. I'll keep you posted on how this works out, but here's the progress so far:

Rice sack tree protectors. Necessary for high goat traffic.

Digging the protectors

And they've sprouted!

Hello, Moringa!

Who run the world? Girls!

Matam Girls Leadership Camp: 5 days, 10 PCVs, 28 middle school (ish) girls (ranging from ages 11 to 17) coming from 8 villages.

My girls: Ndiabel, Ndiabou, Me and Oumou

We started the camp with ice breakers and teaching the girls a dance to Beyonce's 'Who Run The World (Girls)', which we used as our theme for the camp (Pulaar translation: Mo laami aduna? Rewbe!).


The next day we jumped into sessions, asking girls to reflect on their lives (current stresses, future dreams) and then playing "The Best Game" which teaches the girls about entrepreneurship and money management.

The girls drawing out what their current life looks like.

Handing out 'money' during The Best Game.

Discussing financial choices during The Best Game.

We included sports sessions each afternoon.

 That evening we had the girls make collages representing their present and futures lives.

One of my girls, Ndiabel, presenting her collage. 

The next day we had a nurse midwife come talk to the girls about reproductive health and diseases, topics that are rarely addressed in these conservative communities. We followed that with a session on women's rights from a guest speaker from the local NGO Tostan. We wrapped up the day with a light-hearted session on American Culture, clearing up the stereotypes that circulate about us Americans, and giving them an insight to our culture and lives.

Our midwife only spoke French, so we had a volunteer (as well as the older girls) assist with Pulaar translations

Apple pies for the American Culture session. None of the girls liked it (we think it was their unfamiliarity with cinnamon) but that left plenty for the volunteers! 

During our sports session that afternoon we did a dance exchange, where we taught some American dance moves (Single Ladies, Dougie) and they taught us some Senegalese moves. When our speakers couldn't play their Senegalese Mbalax music loud enough, the activity quickly turned into a drum circle, with girls banging on pans and water jugs as various individuals showed off their moves in the center of the circle. They even pulled each of us volunteers into the middle to show what we've got.

On Sunday we had some more sessions, the first on leadership, followed by a session on gender roles and the stereotypes attached to them. It was great to see the girls openly debate some topics about gender that are rarely discussed.

Our regional volunteer support assistant (VSA), Sakhir, leading the gender roles session.

We then had a group of accomplished Senegalese female professionals from the area come talk to the girls on our career panel. The girls enjoyed seeing the types of careers that are entirely within their reach.

Career Panel

The last day, we had some wrap-up sessions and the parents came to pick up the girls. We had the girls sit down with their parents to talk about their goals for the future, and the steps they would need to take to achieve those goals. This was a very powerful activity, as some girls were meant to get married in the near future (at the age of 14 or so) and came forward to their parents about their desires for their future. While some parents were at first on the defensive, between the girls knowledgable presentation and the helpful assistance of a Senegalese Peace Corps staff member who came to help the camp, they seemed to leave understanding the girls wishes and goals.

We finished the camp off with a cheesy certificate ceremony, which the girls loved.

Me with some of the girls. 

Overall, I'm rating this camp as a success. We had absolutely no problems with the girls, in terms of behavior or enthusiasm. The girls left in tears, some because they finally were able to discuss their futures with their parents, others due to the close friendships formed in the 5 days. The camp really provided a venue for a new type of learning for many of the young ladies, and a place to get away from cultural and societal norms that may be hindering their creative prosperity. It was rewarding to be part of a project where you see some results immediately, but also leave with the expectation of long-term effects.
Thank you so much to all who donated to this camp! We really could not do this without support from home, and I hope all of you consider a donation to the camp we plan to do next year.

Matam Girls Leadership Camp 2013

Further reading on our Girls Camp:

Claire's Blog Post

Chris' Blog Post

One Year!

Today marks my first full year in Senegal. I arrived early on March 7, 2012, and really had no idea how my life would change (though I knew it would be in a big way...). Here I am one year later, unable to believe so much time has passed, yet able to see that I am a different person than she who stepped off that plane. I am different in terms of my daily life and amenities, the people I spend my days with, and the language I converse in. I have expanded my perspective beyond my imagination, and somehow adapted to this life.

It's been an eye-opening year. Some trials and tribulations, some self-reflection, and a lot of growth. I am excited to see where the next year takes me.

I think I've done enough "reflection" blog entries lately, so I'll keep this one short and sweet... with some more pictures to show exactly how my life over here looks:

My room! Which I painted myself.

My clothes storage trunk and mosquito-net covered bed.

My bathroom. Yes, I shower out of a bucket.

My laundry equipment.

Food prep doesn't always happen in a kitchen... And cutting boards are not a thing here.

My "kitchen"... 

My water filter.

Raabi, one of my good friends in village, and her 6 month old son (who is 'named' after my dad).