Ramadan-A-Ding-Dong

Abdoulaye was travelling down a path when he saw a large group of people outside a house.

It was in the middle of the day during Ramadan, so he stopped and asked Babacar why such a large crowd of men was gathered there at this time.

Babacar replied, 'Saleem's camel kicked his mother-in-law and she died.'

'Well,' replied the man, 'She must have had a lot of friends.'

'Nope,' said Babacar.' We all just want to buy his camel.'

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Currently, it is the holy month of Ramadan.

What is Ramadan?

A time for Muslims to fast, ask forgiveness, pray for guidance, and try to purify themselves through self-restraint and good deeds.

It is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, in which Muslims refrain from (1) eating, (2) drinking, and (3)sexual activities from dawn until sunset - Not to mention (4) work and (5) pleasantness, both due to one and two. But I'm sorry, who the heck is doing number three during the day? Shouldn't they be doing number four?

What's not to love? I'm pretty jealous their religion has a built-in weight loss program. And think of all the lunch dates you can get out of!

Anyways, it's not easy. I've noticed a certain level of agitation in everyone's demeanor and I dare not attempt to do anything in the afternoon, lest I loose my head to a hungry and aggressive banana vendor.

Although I have chosen not to fast, I still am faced with a certain level of added difficulty. I am still on my own for breakfast, and lunch now is usually leftovers from dinner when the family remembers the pasty white kid who has only been living here for a year. We break the fast at 7:30 (which they didn't invite me to for the first three days) with bread and coffee and dinner comes around 11:30pm. Then the fasters get up at 5:30 am and gorge themselves.

Also, I am constantly approached by people asking me if I am fasting. This I do not understand. Why, when I have a piece of food in my hand, would you ask me if I am fasting? This usually leads into a mild philosophical discussion. I inform I am not fasting, then the other person points out the Catholic Lent and how that is our Ramadan. Then I inform him that is every Friday for 40 days in which my family went out for fish - not the same. It's become a routine.

I'm hungry...

The Universal Nut Sheller

Senegal likes peanuts. So much so that last year's peanut harvest yielded 625,000 tons. That's a lot of nuts.

Peanuts are such an integral part of Senegalese society. They provide 75% of the national agricultural production and employ 50% of the population.

So buy Jiffy Pop! Support Senegal... Not really, nearly all of Senegal's peanuts go to the UK. Hmmm...Cadbury must be up to something.

Much of the peanut crop is exported to various countries, but what is kept in Senegal is used for replanting and consumption. Peanuts are found in numerous Senegalese dishes and many women roast and bag peanuts to sell as snacks.

Shelling peanuts by hand takes hours. It's extremely laborious and often requires most of the women in the family to complete. Families will often buy several kilos and shell them over the course of a few days and then resell them for a small profit or keep them for consumption.

Where does this sheller come in? As a way to add value to crops for women. And since raising the value of a product corresponds directly to increased income, there is more money to go around.

This sheller is equal to 41 women shelling peanuts by hand. This suggests cooperatives would be able to increase output or use the freed up time to produce another product. For example, turning the peanuts in peanut butter. Furthermore, as domestic responsibilities are freed up, young girls have a great chance to attend school and finish school.

A Peace Corps volunteer found the designs for this sheller and contacted the manufactures. After introducing it to his site, he determined it was worthy of spreading across Senegal. And now we are in the phase of gaining interest and finding buyers.

Using locally sourced materials, it can be built for around $65, which is well with in the reach of most cooperatives

Last week, this sheller went on tour and stopped at my site. I invited several women's groups to come and and test out the machine. And they loved it! They couldn't stop clucking about it. By the end of my expo, I had 9 potential orders and I do hope most of them actually buy one

The Sands of Egypt

Salam Alekum traveler!

My name is Ali-Houdini Balam'ak Da Mohammed. But call me Din. Today, I'll be your guide. And I tell you esomething especial... we take adventure into one of oldest country on Earth. Very Cheap!

So my friend, where from? Oh America! OBAMA!! Where in America you from? New York? No, Not New York? Ah, I see, is near California? OK California! Laguna Beach! So Tell me, what you see in Egypt. I show you all. Very cheep.
OK we go! Very cheap.

You come right now! Come! Come! Here, you take this taxi OK we go!

Isn’t this taxi very beautiful? Oh, you want a seat belt. Don’t worry, it’s very safe. Just don’t lean on doors ok? Now, my friend. I teach you 5 words most important in Egypt. You repeat…

1. Allah alim - God knows best
2. Insha' Allah (God willing) – You’re excuse for doing nothing
3. Bakeesh - coins for tips and toilets.
4. Masha'allah - God's will
5. Salata – Salad

Remember these words….

So you want to go see Luxor. Ok we go there. But First we take bus. Go over there to bus station. I wait here. I don’t know which line. You choose and hope it is right. You buy tickets and get on the bus when it come. Ok you got tickets? Good.

We take bus and go to Luxor– Ancient capital of the Pharaohs. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the next 16 hours. Oh and there are movies on the bus. But all in Arabic. You speak Arabic right?

Ok here is bus. We get on. And yes, we always sit in seat assigned. See you have ticket with number. Which seat is yours? I don’t know. Start counting… Ok you two sit here. I sit in front of you. Sit down and try to relax. No! Don’t lean your seat back. That is not acceptable. Why do I get to lean my seat back? Because I Egyptian.

Ok, here we go. In 9 hours we arrive.

Ok, my friends, while we travel, I give you lesson on price in Egypt. Here you read this, my brother’s wife’s cousin’s aunt’s sister wrote this….

Welcome In Egypt! You’re Gide To Prise.
Prise 1: (EGYPTIAN) You don’t ask price, you take the item and as you walk away you give them the right amount that you know already from last purchase. 1 Egyptian Pound.
Prise 2: you’re a local, but you are “white” and you ask the price. 2 Egyptian Pound
Prise 3: You’re a foreigner, and you don’t speak no Arabic, but at least you’re not wearing your digital camera around your neck 3.50 Egyptian Pound
Prise 4: You a tourist. Everybody see it.
-5 E Pound if you Canadian
- 7 E Pound if you German or English or Russian
-10 E Pound if you Japanese. (You suckers!)

Now wasn’t that helpful? How about a bakeesh? That was number 3. I can make change…

Welcome to Luxor, my friends. Now read description sign while I go smoke.

Luxor is a magical place. On the East Bank of the River Nile is the modern city of Luxor which sits on the site of the ancient city of Thebes. You see in movie “The Mummy.” We built new city on top of the old one because it was too much hassle to movw those massive stones to the other side. It’s not, how you say, “a stone’s throw”. At the south end of Luxor is the massive Temple of Karnak, which is where Liz Taylor lived and covers an area similar in size to a major camel ranch. The crown jewel of the temple is the central area with its 134 (we think) standing columns the size of redwood trees. At the north end of Luxor, near the heart of the modern city, is the Temple of Luxor. The ATM is next to it. The two temples are about two miles (three kilometers) apart. In ancient times the road between the two was flanked by hundreds of sphinxes.

Now we go to bus station and take long ride to Sinai…

Hey my friends, wake up. Now we are in Sinai. We go snorkeling. Very beautiful. Ok my friends, I give Egyptian price for mask and flippers. Very Cheap! See, Sea of Aqaba very beautiful. You put on the flippers and walk out backwards to the ocean. Don't fall on anything! Ok have fun. I wait here and smoke Sheesha.

How was it? Very beautiful yes? Did you see all the fish and coral. Just like movie.
So now you want to visit Mount Sinai. I take you to mountain and we walk. It's very beautiful. We start at midnight. You take 3 hours to walk up and then 3 hours to walk down. And if you want you can take camel for very cheap. Come along! Just mind the camels. They spit and kick! See this place here. This St. Catherine's Monestary. It sits at the bottom of mountain. We come here later. Ok up we go.

Don't worry it's not far..... Ok how are you doing? It's only another 2 hours to the top! Let's move quickly, I want to pass this group of deaf Asians. You're right, they do honk a lot. Not very beautiful.

Congratulations! You reached the top. Very beautiful. Now you sit here until the sunrise then we walk back down. What do you mean you are cold? Didn't your guide tell you to bring a jacket? Oh that was me. No worries my friend. Just relax and enjoy the very beautiful sunrise. And don't go over there... there's group of Mexican Jews singing in Spanish. Come sit here. I go smoke.

Ok now wasn't sunrise very beautiful? We walk now. We take steps. 3700 steps of repentance. We go.... Ok how are you my friend? Tired? Yes, you're feet will be sore for 4 days after this. Come don't worry, this will only take three hours. Just watch your step the rocks are loose and uneven. Don't fall on the person in front of you. Hahaha! What do you mean you didn't realize how many steps 3700 really is. Come on we go smoke at the bottom.

So this is Saint Catherine's. It's very old and beautiful. Inside you see the burning bush and the body part of some saint. You Christians do that. Haha! You make me laugh. Very true that bush is not on fire! Yes, Moses didn't have that far to walk!

So, now you leave. I hope you liked Egypt. One of most beautiful countries on Earth.

Oh, you did?

…

Bakeesh?

You know you live in Africa when...

1. “Now now” can mean anything from a minute to a month.
2. The employees dance in front of the building to show how unhappy they are.
3. The national network advertises and shows highlights of the program you just finished watching.
4. You get cold easily. Anything below 85 Fahrenheit is Arctic weather.
5. You can sing your national anthem in four languages, and you have no idea what it means in any of them.
6. You produce a 2000 CFA note instead of your driver’s license when stopped by a traffic officer.
7. You can do your monthly shopping on the pavement.
8. The gas in your tank may be worth more than your car.
9. A bullet train is being introduced, but we can’t fix potholes.
10. You have to prove that you don’t need a loan to get one.
11. It rains for less than an hour and everywhere is flooded. But the people are over-joyed.
12. A game of hop-scotch attracts half the village.
13. Every toothpaste is Colgate.
14. Every soft drink is coca cola or Fanta.
15. You call everyone older then you uncle or aunt.
16. No running water for a day is just another ordinary thing.
17. Being an hour late equals being “on time”.
18. You have an over whelming urge to wash all your salad in bleach and add a bit of charcoal to your milk just to get the taste your used to.
19. You know never to question what you’re eating (even if it does taste good), cuz sometimes you just don’t want to know.
20. Football is played with some sort of ROUND ball and WITHOUT hands.
21. You make friends with the local Sheppard and know the goats by name
22. You watch the minibus driver's assistant try to climb through the front window onto the roof in order to fit another passenger in.
23. After your bus has blown a tire, the one it's replaced with looks just as bad and old.
24. You can sing Akon’s “Smack That” without knowing what it really means.
25. There are more goats on top of the car than passengers in it.
26. You could make your own weave from discarded pieces.
27. Most of your aunts and uncles are younger than you
28. You ask you mother to ask your brother to ask your sister to ask your cousin to ask you Dad if you can have money for something.
29. You know it only becomes stealing when the other person notices its disappearance.
30. You're cell phone has a flashlight
31. For safety, you make your donkey wear a reflector.
32. The entire village has seen your boobs.
33. You don't understand the value of the money in your hand, but you know what that colored coin can buy.
34. Kids think exchanging an mp3 player for a bracelet is a fair deal.

CSI: Candyland

One of my fondest memories growing up was hearing Bill Cosby's take on family and children. The best, by far, was his section on children and brain damage.

It's true. Children have brain damage. I had it. And childhood is one long recovery plan. You can sit something in front of them, tell them not to touch, and while you stare at them, they touch it. And when you ask them, "why did you touch it" they respond, "I don't know".

But in my case, I get to put up with "I don't know" in three languages. "Xamuma", "Je ne sais pas" and "I don't know" all have the derivative of from Phoenician to Greek to Latin meaning "I thought you weren't serious."

(Mom, this is my formal apology, I'm sorry)

Last night I noticed a line of ants in my room. After a several minute hunt (remember these are African ants) I found their source - a blow pop wrapper from a month ago that I never threw out. Feeling very Senegalese at the moment, I opted for the easiest method. I took the remaining suckers, crammed them into a clear bag, then left them on the table.

Therein lies my mistake. The next day the kids kept saying, "offer me candy," which is how we ask for things in Wolof. I kept saying I didn't have any and as the day progressed I started wondering why they kept asking.

Later on I decided to take a nap to recover from the carb coma I enter after lunch everyday. At the time of my repose there were several children in my room playing cards on my floor. Shortly after, all of the children except for one left.

Now, this child who remained, as cute and funny as he is, has his solar panel aimed at the moon, if ya catch my drift.

So I am laying in bed and I start to hear a crinkling noise. I wake up and see him slowly lift a blow pop out of the bag. We make eye contact and he stares at me like a deer in head lights and I yell, in Wolof "theif." Well the family comes running and makes a huge stink of it, which they should have.

I later called him into my room to explain why his actions were bad and I banished him from my room for a week. He's been sulking out of sight all afternoon.

I just don't get it. I don't know if this is goes back to the cultural point of the Senegalese having no boundaries with personal effect or if this boy's brain dun fell out. I have lived with him for a year now and he pulls this. Brain Damage!

Girl's Camp

Wow! It has been a long time since my last post. I left my site on 20 June for a Girl's Summer Camp and then I immediately left for a much needed three week vacation in Egypt. So this post will cover the Girl's Camp.

Development agents (isn't that a nice term) in developing countries have learned that in order to modernize or advance a country, women must be included and even focused on. In developed countries, the dispariaty between women and men is less and gender rolls are less absolute. Whatever your opinion is on the matter, this point is true. In places such as Africa, gender rolls are all but law. Focusing on women is a chance to make a difference.

Several of us volunteers in the Kaolack/Kaffrine regions of Senegal worked together to offer 27 young girls from 15-19 years of age a chance to learn, grow and have fun. The week long camp was organized and operated Peace Corps volunteers. Outside donors provided the funds necessary to supply the camp.

We held the summer camp in the city of Sokone, where we had found a camp ground with amazing facilities. Also, the campground was positioned in the delta and surrounded by brackish water and the Mangroves. The mangrove are an incredible ecosystem, but unfortunatley, they are being destroyed.

The camp was run like any other vacation camp seen in the US. After all, aren't the volunteers American? Each day we had leadership and team building activities, information sessions, health, arts and crafts, games and sports. We had some great activities and games and I am proud to say that my ideas definitely were a big success. (I have to give props to my mom for being a good example over the years)

The girls were given a journal and pen and everyday there was a journal topic to go with the theme of the day. Surprising the girls, were very willing to write and never needed to be encouraged. Some of the girls would spend all their free time journaling. I suppose it's a nice retreat from a world where one is never alone.

We also invited local teacher to come and play a role. The objective is that each year the Senegalese will play larger and larger roles until the point were the volunteers aren't needed anymore. Since this is the first year, they mostly watched how we interacted with the girls. They were, however, responsible for the daily 'debrief' sessions in which they discussed the day's going ons with the girls and basically made a summary of what went on

For the first two days I was in charge of the Leadership and team building activities. For day one, we played helium stick, a game designed to foster cooperation and communication. It was a blast! On day two we played tug-o-war and wow those girl got rough and competitive! We also did a water balloon fight which was a hit! We played several communication related game and quickly realized the soaking wet girls were the one's who don't listen.

For arts and craft we tried to give them activities which would allow them to be creative, think on their own, and act unhindered. Lack of creativity and initiative is a problem here in Senegal. And to prove it, I could line up volunteers, NGO employees, and other more educated Senegalese. Children here have so few opportunities to be creative. There are no junk drawers, no VBS, and Arts & Crafts don't follow snack time. And no one, I mean no one, thinks out of the box or let alone, is allowed too.

Our first craft involved cutting out pictures from magazines and using one side of a paper plate to describe who the girls are, and on the other, who the girls want to be. We provided pens, paper, scissors, markers, stickers etc. In the US, this would have been simple. Not here. They actually asked where to put stickers, what to draw, and where to glue pictures. I was floored. And one girl, who couldn't find a picture of a doctor for her collage, asked me what to do. I said, "figure it out" and she looked stunned. I also had to stop the teachers from telling the girls how to make their collages. This is typical, as creativity is copied here. UGH!

The most popular physical activity was swimming. The camp ground is on the bank of the mainland leading into the mangroves. They loved swimming. They played their own version of Marco Polo: Ceebu jen (fish and rice) HAHAHA!

The most popular health session was the one of sexual health. We recruited a health volunteer who speaks BEAUTIFUL Wolof and for two hours, they were glued to every word she said. Only the female volunteers were apart of this session, but every time I walked by, the girls had inched their chairs closer. By the end, they practically resting on the volunteer.

The best part of the camp was watching the girls come out of their shells. On day 1 everyone was timid and shy. By the end of the week they were loud, laughing, and all but uncontrollable. Today, I am visiting the four girls that I brought to see what they thought about the camp and to get their feedback. But I think it will all be positive, as I have run into their families and I've heard nothing but praises.

Success!

Can't Stop The Rain

Last night the rains came.

Remember the programs on the Discover Channel about the God-forsaken antelope scratching at dirt to find water and food, and then, *shazam* the next scene is wide angle view of rolling clouds.

Well it's actually like that.

I went over to my counterpart's house last night for warthog and on the way home I noticed lightening way off in the distance. I thought nothing of it and continued on my way.

Back at home, I went though my usual routine. I dragged the mattress outside onto my porch, locked up my room and went to bed. At 1 am, the wind picked up a little and soon after a drizzle started and quickly stopped.

At 2:30, again the wind picked up, and kept picking up. Half asleep, I pulled the blanket over my head and rolled over. A few minutes later, the cyclone hit! I swear, if it had been light out, I could have told you which mummy's face was in the storm cloud. With in seconds, the family was up and inside the house closing windows and securing loose doors. I jumped up, wrapped my blanked around my face and half blinded, dragged my mattress inside. Soon after the heavens opened.

The next morning, I looked at my floor and I could barely make out the design on the linoleum. It took the kids nearly an hour to get the sand out of my hut....

Welcome to the rainy season.

Language

Yesterday morning, my host brother walked into my room and plopped himself, as he often does, on my wicker couch.

He does this often, and in fact, he is doing it as I type this. Sometimes I think this is his way of getting something from me, or he's hiding from the women in the family who never shut up.

Anyways, I proceeded to make small talk and asked him what he was going to do for the national holiday that day. (Side note: there's always some national holiday) He said he would spend the day doing nothing, which I half expected.

I then asked about another member of the family and his whereabouts as I hadn't seen him all morning. My host brother said he had left for the auto shop where he works. I was surprised, as I thought everyone had today off. The schools were closed, and I knew the post office was shut. I asked why this was and my host brother said that anyone who works with the French language has the day off.

In the States, our division of labor is labeled by our collars: blue or white. In Senegal (and I'm sure most of post-colonial Africa) the division is labeled by what language one works with. It makes prefect sense. A command of the French languages generally implies someone is educated and most likely has a job that doesn't involve manual labor.

Working

It has been far too long since my last post. But I have been so busy and this heat is exhausting! At then end of the day, all I want to do is get lost in a movie and go to bed.

It's been so incredibly hot lately and I've been using my fan around the clock. I started feeling guilty that I was using too much electricity, so I started sleeping outside. Every night I drag out my foam mattress and place it on the terrace, then about 6:30 am, when the women get up and start bustling around, I wake up and take the mattress back inside and sleep for another two hours. But last night was so hot that I got up at 1 am and went back inside. I woke up with a headache. I must have sweat so much I dehydrated myself.

The fruit dryer is going well. The women's group decided to do a large market test to see if it is a plausible idea. Last Sunday was the inauguration of a new father at the church and so everyone was expected to be there. The women figured they could dry mangoes all week and then sell them after Mass. They started the Sunday before and on Wednesday, I stopped by to see how the drying was going. They had dried a lot of mangoes but hadn't figured out the amount and price per bag. So we did that on the spot and the potential profit was over 200% of cost. So Friday rolls around and I decide to check up on the drying. I stopped by the church to see the dryers and I'm told that the day before the women had decided to sell everything at the exposition for the national holiday. Now, I knew Thursday was to be a holiday, but I had no idea there was to be an expo nor that the women had sold the fruit at it. Anyways, I learned that the women sold out of everything they had dried for the week by noon and that they had run back and bagged up what was sitting in the dryers and sold out of all of that. I have no idea what they made in profit or how much they sold but I am excited to find out! The next meeting is tomorrow.

I also have been making a name for myself. There are several other volunteers who want to have their own dyer and have asked for my designs. I'm excited at how popular it has become.

Work at the center is going well. It's still going to be a long time until the girls are ready for international export on a large scale. But they are making strides. They've had a few training and are moving forward. There are many hands stirring this pot and I am having trouble balancing everyone's interests. I'm in a unique position being that I am a Westerner who lives near and works with the center. I am capable of making quick decisions and can easily be a voice for the other NGOs trying to help. But we're not all on the same page...*sigh*. One NGO had made an extensive business plan for the girls and will be a great asset. It gives the girls a model to works with and towards, as it explains costs and times to make many of the products the girls will eventually make. The problem is that they are far off from producing anything on a large scale. Not all the girls even show up every day.

In June, a consultant is coming to give a training. In preparation for her arrival, I met with the director of the workshop and we divided the business in plan into what the girls currently can and cannot make. For what they can make, they will prepare examples for the consultant so she can do quality control. They've started this week and I've been watching closely and been constructively criticizing. There are some issues with the work, but they are being fixed.

Today we installed 6 computers into the girl's center for future trainings on computers. I guess this is my responsibility as I am the only one who could teach them. But in typical Senegalese fashion, there were no desks or chairs for the computers. Add that to the list.

My reading room/library/innovation center or whatever I decide to call it has hit a bump. My counterpart and I met with one of the two fathers and the two leaders of the church's boy's boarding school. My counterpart and I had met with several masons and prepared an informal presentation to explain the financing. After introducing the room, the father looked at me and said "We don't need another room. I thought you were going to help with our library." I was so shocked that I was speechless. And a side note, the leaders of the boarding school were just as shocked. During our first meeting ever, all aforementioned people plus the church's head, a Senegalese priest, met to discuss collaborating on building a library because the boarding school needed the room. This Father must have misunderstood at the first meeting. My counterpart (thank God!) jumped to my rescue and attempted to set the Father straight, but it was to no avail. I'm no sure what to do but my counterpart said he would contact the other Father.

The summer camp I am collaborating on is coming along. But I don't think we are making progress fast enough and I am afraid that time will run out.

Last Thursday, my host brother and I painted and laid new linoleum down in my hut. It badly needed a new coat of paint and the linoleum was badly tearing. We did it all in one day and I think I nearly killed my host brother, but it needed to be done.

That about sums it up!I'm busy and loving it!

Projects Galore!

Wow! What a hectic month.

Since my return from Dakar I have been up to my ears in projects. I've built a fruit dryer, been making progress on building the library, creating a girls' summer camp, and been swamped with the workshop.

First off, the fruit dryer. There is a womens' group associated with the church and they have been looking for new ways to make money. At a recent meeting they came up with several ideas, one being dried fruit. Surprisingly, I had been presented a design for one at a conference in Dakar and I was intrigued with the simplicity and cheapness of the model. I told the women about and asked to be give a couple of weeks to modify and build one for commercial use.

I called up the volunteer and asked about how it works and got his thoughts and opinions. Then I did some internet research to see how a dryer operates. I came up with a design of my own and I built it. I had to modify his design so it would produce more dried fruit. And my modification resulted in the wooden box I built.

It works very simply. Air enters at the bottom and is heated between the plastic and painted black zinc. Then the air enters in from the bottom of the box and exists through the top, thereby drying the fruit. The total cost was about $20.

My first attempt failed because I had a metal roof. So the air just lingered and humidified. I called up the other volunteer and he explained that removing the roof would correct the problem. He was right.

So far I have successfully dried: apples, bananas, mangoes, okra, peppers, and tomatoes. The tomatoes didn't turn out how I wanted. I took the skin off before drying them and I wound up with sun dried tomato chips. On the next attempt, I'll leave on the skins.

I presented the dryer to the women and they are interested. On Wednesday I have another presentation and then they will decide if they want to pursue it. If they do, then they have to do a market and costing analysis.

I emailed pics to my bosses and told every volunteer who would listen and already one volunteer has asked me to come out and build one!

The library is coming. I have a meeting with the church next week. More to come on that. The workshop is currently giving dying training and I'll report on that soon. The summer camp is moving along. I'm spearheading the activities committee and we finally got funding. We themed out each day and are working from there.

All in all, a very busy month and even a busier one to come

The infectious Infection

I landed myself a week in the medical hut at the Peace Corp's Headquarters in Dakar all due to a staph infection.

I'll spare everyone the oozy details and just say I got it from shaving with germ infested water. The water at site is amazing. The inside of my water filter is rust orange- a deeper orange than the shade on some modern cars. Yuck.

I contacted the Peace Corps doctors the day it started and 48 hours later (48 is a magical medicinal number) it wasn't any better and my butt was told -not asked- to get to Dakar. Luckily, there was a Peace Corps car passing through later on. Unluckily, 'later on' was 20 minutes later. I never packed so quickly.

So I've been stuck in the Med Hut for a few days as the doctors check over me. I've been on antibiotics and it is getting better.

Surprisingly, there is another volunteer quarantined with me for a staph infection and my boss' assistant has one too. Must be the water!

I was really reluctant to come. It's such a jarring experience to go from a rural town to Dakar. Not to mention, it's freaking expensive! Such that Peace Corps gives us a per diem for our time here. There's just no way to do really cheap here.

It hasn't all been unpleasant though. Casino, a very large supermarket is in walking distance. I've made spaghetti bolognaise and tonight we had chicken breasts with tomato basil sauce. And the Cheese! Oh the Cheese! I had forgotten about the cheese isle that is in all French grocery stores. It doesn't exist in the US. So good.

Tomorrow I will be released and I will make my way back to site, spending tomorrow night in Kaolack at the regional house.

Long Week

What a rotten week! They're rare, but it's times like these that make me want to come home.

I got a skin infection on my left cheek. It either came form spider bite or from when I last shaved. I tried sleeping outside for a few nights because it's so hot, so that may explain the spider. Either way, my cheek is swollen and it looks like I put on 50lbs. I'm on an antibiotic, but like all antibiotics, there are side effects - unpleasant side effects.

I've tried to minimize leaving the house to avoid the embarrassment, but wouldn't you know my boss passed through town yesterday and I had to walk to the center of the city to greet him.

If it's not showing signs of improvement in a day or two I'll have to go to Dakar for treatment.

In other news, my chicken died. A few days ago the neighbor's chicken spent the night in our chicken coup and passed along its sickness. My host brother's chickens got sick first and then my chicken caught it. Yesterday morning the kids woke up to find 3 out of 4 of my host brother's chickens dead and then later on in the afternoon my chicken finally succumbed to it. Funny thing though, she left behind unhatched eggs and the one surviving god-chicken decided to nest on those eggs. I foresee Senegalese Family Court in my Future.

I didn't know what to do with the body and I didn't feel like touching it. So I called over the 10 year old Go-fer and told him to get rid of it. I later asked out of curiosity what he did with it and he said he threw it on top of the communal garbage heap in the street. Remember there is no trash collection. Thank God it's burned every few days.

It's Easter time and so in the spirit of "Teranga" or "hospitality" Christians and Muslims are exchanging tokens of friendship. Teranga is extremely important here and is more of a way of life than a concept. There is a Wolof proverb that says: "A visitor or stranger is a king and should be treated as such." So far, they've been exchanging an runny peanut butter mix and I have accumulated about a gallon. I really don't want it, but I have to accept it. I'll just give it to the kids.

Today I made a Rocket Stove.

A Rocket Stove is "is a type of stove combining the air-intake with the fuel-feed slot in an opening terminated by the combustion chamber, further leading to a chimney and heat exchanger. A rocket stove is signified by ease of construction and simplicity of building materials while accepting small-diameter fuel such as twigs or small branches, yielding high combustion efficiency and directing the resultant heat onto a small area."

Thank you Wikipedia.

Basically, it's a cylinder surrounded with insulation that draws and preheats air though the fuel slot, thereby making the fire hotter and the air more combustible, or something like that.

I had a friend show me his design and I attempted to recreate it. I decided I wanted to try and not pay for anything, which is possible. I wound up paying 500F ($1) to have the cans I used welded together, which in retrospect, wasn't necessary. I found or was given all the other materials.

I started by finding three tomato cans which I hollowed out to make a cylinder, I then added the smaller perpendicular fuel access can. Then I slapped some mud on a piece of wood to create a base. I enclosed the cans with a sheet of zinc and the filled the gap with ash.

The overall point is to create a more efficient stove and avoid using charcoal. Because the of increased heat and combustion, it works far more efficiently.

My host family said they would test it for me and see how it works. It did manage to boil two liters of water in 10 minutes. I thought that was impressive for only using a few sticks.

Solidarity and Vacations

Just when I think African solidarity couldn't possibly become any more intrusive... it does.

Not only what is in my wallet, fridge, and medicine cabinet not just mine (remember the borrower's right to receive is greater than the lender's right to keep)my vacations come under attack.

Yesterday, I was sitting in the courtyard reading, as I often do to not seem as if I am always in my room, when one of the women in the family, out of nowhere, asked me if I am taking any vacations back to the US. Now, the family knows a lot of what volunteers do, having hosted a volunteer in the past. And let's be honest, it's a reasonable question to ask. I figure I can't get away for weeks on end without telling them. They'll just call Peace Corps, and then I'll have to answer for it when I'm back.

So I reflected for a second and decided there isn't any harm in telling them I'm going to Egypt. It didn't quite work out that way.

As usual, the conversation immediately turned to how the family doesn't have money. So much stems from that one mentality and it's incredibly frustrating. It's always, "we just don't have money," which is a very reactive response. We use this reply in the States, but dig a little deeper and this is where our cultures diverge. Ask someone why he or she doesn't have money and the answer will be different. In Senegal, I never hear someone use debt (good or bad), budget constraints (but how I wish!), or savings. When I ask why they don't have money, the response falls along the lines of not having jobs or things are expensive.

It's rarely, "I had too many kids in an economy with no jobs" or "I didn't finish school and don't speak French" or "I was socially obligated to give what I have to friends/family." I do get these responses, but it's usually by someone who learned a little too late.

I wasn't hounded or harassed, but the conversation moved in the direction of the only family member with solid job and income who is sending money to so many family member. I was told that if he wanted to take a vacation outside of Senegal, the family would call him and say that he was throwing away money because the family has needs and the money could be spend better elsewhere.

Ain't that some shit...

End of Training

Finishing up the rest of February and a few days into March was my In Service Training (IST). This is a technical training held 3 months after becoming a volunteer, which for me happened in October.

It was very informative, and at times, very boring. One presentation followed another day after day and it seemed endless. The worst presentations were given by the Senegalese and the best was given by an importer from the US.

The Senegalese like to talk and talk and talk and then discuss. And subsequently, this transfers over to presentations. Watching a Senegalese presenter present to a group of Senegalese is tantamount to watching a dance. The presenter has to relate his subject to the audience while allowing everyone a chance to comment or offer their opinion. And I mean everyone. And if the presenter fails to allow enough people the opportunity to offer their (usually useless) opinions, his or her evaluation suffers. People raise their hand simply to reiterate what the presenter just mentioned or they do my favorite, get the speakers attention and then point at the person who just spoke and say, "I agree with him." Seriously, Why?

Now take this presenter who is used to the Senegalese non stop verbal assault and place him with a group of Americans who have been sitting in a dark room for a week. And what do you get? Lots of crickets chirping. Often, it became awkward because they would address the audience looking for a comment and they would get silence.

The best presentation, in my opinion, was given by a lady who owns a small business on the West coast and imports products from all across Africa. She offered consumer sided information on the products that she has sold and what she is currently looking at for future imports.

Since IST has finished, I've been thinking of the projects I'd like to work on. I have listed, a vegetable garden for the boy's boarding school, a few technical trainings on computers, trainings in accounting, and exportation. Hopefully I'll stay busy!

Goat Cheese Monastery

On Sunday a bunch of the volunteers at the center for In Service Training decided to take a field trip. It's our only day off and we did not want to spend it in the center.

One of the volunteers is stationed in a city called Pout. Yes, no joke and don't ask the Senegalese why they named it that. They don't find it funny. Nearby Pout is an A Catholic monestary complete with monks and the monk store which provides the community with trinkets, jams, and best of all, goat cheese!

The monastery has been around since the 60s and owns and operates fruit fields and produces not only jams but dried fruits and assorted candies. They also have a really interesting nativity scene that costs the same as a Belgian waffle maker I found in Thies, but I didn't buy it.

The architecture and designs are very interesting and it is a nice mix of modern art with African influences. We attended Mass and then immediately ran over to the gift shop to buy the goat cheese and jams and then we sat in a gazebo and munched on cheese and jams. Overall, it was a nice break and a fun time.

I will be going back...

WAIST

It’s been a busy last two weeks. On the 7th, the Peace Corps director threw a Super Bowl party at his home for the new volunteers who managed to stay at site for their entire first month. First off, what a house! They had the largest external air conditioner that I had ever seen. Taller than myself, I swear it could knock over a person, it’s so strong. The house was large, plush, and made me want to be an expat! We pre-gamed with chips, cereal and milk, brownies, donuts, chips, etc and later we had tacos, hotdogs and pizza.

We watched the game on the Armed Forces Network, meaning we had no commercials – just the same 30 second speeches by the Secretary of Defense and Obama thanking and encouraging the troops over and over and over. And just so you know….. Gates is a snooze to listen to. I’m just sayin’. The game started at 11:35 and finished way later than most of the volunteers could last and most fell asleep. But I made it.
The next morning, the Peace Corps bused us all to the training center in Thies for a two day session on permagardening ( that’s permanent and gardening)and I got to dig in the dirt and learn a skill that I probably won’t use because I don’t think I can find a 5x5 meter plot that isn’t swarming with trash or poop of some kind. But I know how to build a really effective rainy season garden. Yeah….
Now starts WAIST (10th - 15th)

WAIST is the West African Invitational Softball Tournament, though its acronym is more appropriate, even though you’d have to eliminate the ‘I’. It’s a big softball tournament with teams from all over the area and Peace Corps teams from most regions in Senegal and one national team from both Mali and The Gambia . In years past, there were teams from Mauritania and Guinea, but Peace Corps in those countries has been canceled, though some transfers formed a “refugee” team and managed to do pretty poorly. The embassy had a team as well as a Senegalese team and there were a few others.

Many of us were lucky enough to be given homestays by the Peace Corps. They are families who offer their homes to volunteers during the festivities. My homestay was a young couple married just who had come to Senegal just after the wedding. The husband works for the embassy and his wife is an editor. They were very kind and showed the six boys who stayed there much hospitality. We did our best to be quiet and respectful and not make any noise when we came home at 6 am. I think we were pretty successful. We were encouraged to have fun and vent but leave the party outside. Fair enough.

My region (Kaolack) decided to dress up as lumberjacks for our theme. The Dakar region chose wrestlers, the regions of Tamba and Kedagou united for lack of number to form Tambagou B.C, which involved many loin cloths. The teams from Mali choose “bumpsters” which is a male prostitute, which I thought might cause some problems considering the non-Peace Corps teams didn’t have themes, one being the “Family Team”. Hrmmmm…

All the Peace Corps teams from Senegal lost but Peace Corps Gambia won the social league. The competitive and more professional league was won, oddly enough, by a Senegalese team who played in street clothes and was so overly serious that we had a blast stressing them out. For a team so serious, you think they could have found uniforms. Alas they didn’t and just wore American street clothes and managed to look like a bunch of hoodlums running from the po po. Our teams weren’t so serious. It’s kind of hard to play baseball with a beer in one hand. But hey, we got some laughs.

Every night was a different party at a different location and each was a total blast. It was great getting to experience Dakar and seeing what the city has to offer. It's so completely different from the rest of the country. The only downside to the weekend had to adjust to non-Dakar life, which can be jarring.

Currently, I'm going through In Service Training (IST) at the center in Thies and will have more on this shortly...

What A Nice Bracelet You Have

Friday morning my friend and I left Koungheul for Kaolack in our two day trip to make it to Dakar.

My endeavor to leave Koungheul started with the usual disorganized mess of people and baggage. I had to walk to the garage with all my luggage, of course, being a foreigner, I was harrassed endlessly by the children of the town. "Give me money" and "Give me a gift" are all I hear when I walk around.

We found a sept place at the garage and hopped in. The far back seat was empty so we opted to take both window seats. An hour later, two seats are still empty and those of us in the car are itching to go. Finally, for some reason, the driver pulls out of the garage and takes a turn in the wrong direction.

After a bout of confusion we ended at the Gendarmerie, where one man and a gendarme get in the car, thereby filling all seats and giving us the green light to start our travels.

Interestingly, my friend was acquainted with the man who sat between us as they had once met on a bus. He informed my friend he was traveling to Kaolack for a program. Two hours later pass and we are going through a city that I can't recognize and I decide to lean forward for a better look out of the window. As I am doing this, I notice this man has an odd metal bracelet on his right wrist. Leaning slightly more forward, I see a chain connecting this odd bracelet to another on his left wrist. They were handcuffs!!!

This explains why the Gendarme was in the car! I'm not sure what kind of 'program' he had to go to but he started his visit to Kaolack at the Justice Palace. I never noticed the handcuffs because he was wearing a long sleeved shirt and kept his hands covered with his mini briefcase.

The adventures continue....

Yo Mamma...

I have just witnessed the mother of all family disputes.

I'm not sure how the argument started nor from where it came nor what it was really about. But, like a tornado, it roared from nowhere and ruffled a lot of feathers. I didn't see my chicken for a hour afterward.

I was in my room when the ruckus started. At first, I figured the family was horsing around, as often happens with a big family. But the noise continued and the tone changed. I left my room, agitated that now, along with the goat, the mosque loudspeakers, the chickens, and the village idiot's children, I could add my family to the reasons that peace alludes me. Strolling out of my door and onto my porch, I saw my 18 year old host brother yelling profusely and irately at his aunt. I watch as the 65 year old grandmother attempted to separate the two while another aunt and the children watched on in dazed amusement. I stayed on, as it's not rude to be involved in everyone's business and I didn't mind a new piece de theatre. The most poignant moment was when the second aunt gave up running interference and sat down with her head in her hand.

Several times the grandmother was able to calm and separate my host brother from his aunt and and each time the aunt taunted him back. And all for what? I don't really know, but the aunt kept repeating "your mother." I think this stems back to the fact that my host brother's mother, who currently lives in Kaolack, is trying to go to school and raise three children. I don't know many details except that the aunt is jealous of whatever my host mother has. Why exactly? I don't know. I guess someone in the family, whom I don't know is giving her money and the aunt is envious of her opportunities.

Arguments and disputes in Senegal vary greatly from those in the US. At first glance, they do appear the same; yelling, gesturing, insults, and the occasional fist throwing. What separates the two is the pent up frustration and roundabout ways of approaching everything in live.

Frustration here is guarded and kept and left to fester. Socially, it is unacceptable to confront someone directly with one's grievances. Roundabout approaches are always best. A wrong is settled with a third party go-between who relays information and feelings. Yeah... and don't we all remember how well that worked in middle school? So, to fix this, we make off handed comments and allusions to someone else's money and fortunes, usually in the form of underlying one's lack thereof.

Just this morning, my surreptitious host aunt asked me if I liked tea. I replied with a sigh and the usual comment of "I don't have money," which, this month, has been exceptionally aggravating as I truly don't.

Also, your business is not just your own. Everybody be up in theybody's bidnez. I don't understand it. I equate to the fact that there is nothing else to do but gossip and you have to get someone else to do your dirty work. This is by far one of the most difficult differences to adapt to. I have dodged so many intrusive questions about my finances and what I pay for things.

When is someone going to import the stress ball?

Like Selling Sand To An Arab

On Wednesday I started my accounting lessons with the 10,000 Girls. Gearing up for the mother of all gauntlets, I prepared a few activities that I believed would best help to make it all clear.

First, I should explain the system. Peace Corps has supplied the business volunteers in Senegal with a very nice set of manuals covering all areas of a business: management, accounting, marketing, finance, etc. Every category is simply broken down and organized and accompanied with pictures. I would put the level of difficulty on a middle school level. Best of all, they are all in French and prevents me from having to do any tedious translating. I have yet to find a volunteer who doesn't like them.

So here's how it works. It's a one page spread sheet, reading from left to right, that is broken into 3 sections. Section 1 is "date", "label," and "number". Section 2 has two categories of "Bank" and "Cash Box" which are both subdivided with the categories of "entry," "withdrawal," and "Balance". Finally the third category will indicate if the entry was a sale, direct manufacturing cost, direct labor cost, or indirect cost.

During training, we covered this in a one hour and a half session and at the end, we were told it would take on average 8 months to successfully teach. **Insert sound of jaw hitting the ground**

So knowing this, I very indirectly instructed my counterpart to very directly make sure the girls choose a competent girl to be the accountant. This went over as well as selling sand to an Arab. Somehow, only known to God above, and once again proving why I am in Senegal, they chose an barely literate girl with a bad attitude.

But crises averted. The time between my telling the girls that I wanted to do accounting and the actual meeting was a few days. In the mean time, I attended the literacy classes that counterpart teaches . As I've mentioned before, these girls are apart of a larger NGO that requires the girls to be in school and work at the same time. In order to help them meet this requirement, my counterpart and my predecessor created literacy classes that meet 3 times a week. My counterpart teaches English, and his friend teaches math and French. They are compensated for their efforts. I asked if I could come and visit and subsequently I was asked to teach a lesson in English. At one point during my visits. I learned who the accountant-elect was going to be and also noticed she had difficulty writing. So I did some asking, and approached my counterpart about what I saw. He was surprised himself and subsequently I asked him (being that I'm not Senegalese)to have the leader find a more capable girl, which was accomplished. If she can't write, then she won't record anything, and we'll have problems. Big problems.

So forward ahead to the day of the meeting. It's scheduled at 4pm and my counterpart had come over to borrow my computer earlier in the day for a web conference for his new job. Not a risk to my computer. He just sits in front of it, staring blankly. He can't type so by the time he gets a question out, it's too late.

So at 3:30 he finishes, and I suggested we leave then and stop by the post office because my package still isn't here and maybe he could help me. After leaving the post, at which point it's nearly 4, he says he has to go home to eat lunch. Fuming, I said ok, not really having a choice because I needed him lucid for the meeting. Well, the meeting started around 5, nearly an hour late.

I stated off the session by playing a game. I set up fake cash box and a bank and then gave them a set of verbal transactions that they had to record and to process. Much as I suspected they bickered and struggled and at the end we discussed their difficulties. Then I pulled out an example of the spreadsheet. I explained the headings and then we went over it line by line. It took a lot of work and repetition to make it clear and there were a few bad attitudes, which I fixed by letting them know they didn't have to be present. Most interestingly, they didn't want to use the calculator I had brought. They all preferred to use their cell phones! And for the easiest of transactions. When I asked what 14 thousand minus 7 thousand equaled, they all pulled out their cell phones. Afterwards, we went back and replayed the game that I had made and recorded the transaction the proper way. One girl, very surprisingly, caught on very early and had no problem answering my questions. And even at one point I had to ask her to not respond so quickly as to give the other girls a chance to think it through. I'd like to see her be the accountant.

The session finished around 7pm and we all went home. Overall, it was successful and we have another meeting on Tuesday to reinforce the lesson. Repetition is the name of the game here.

Life

Not much has happened since my last post, but I wanted to write something nonetheless, so at least, I still stay in the habit of updating it.

Since returning from the village I have been trying to complete my community resource assessment, which, is not easy. The CRA is an evaluation or report of what is available in a community. In the developed world, this would easier, but nonetheless, I am attempting to accomplish it. I have broken down the city into categories and have trying to systematically visit each category. Thus far, I have visited the Mayor's office, the Gendarmerie, and a few of the schools. I'm asking who works there, responsibilities, and challenges in an attempt to gain a better understand of what the community has and needs. I don't envy anyone living in a large city. My small town is difficult enough. The mayor's office couldn't tell me how many teachers and students there are in the city.

My visit to the Gendarmerie was the most interesting thus far. I walked in with my counterpart, introduced myself and then asked how many Gendarmes there are stationed in Koungheul. This was met by a nasty dismissal and a waive of the hand, informing us that we were in a military installation. Military installation my foot! It is as open as a public park, and was even accompanied with a kid on a tricycle, which inevitably turned out to be the Commandant's kid. And every single gendarme had an empty gun holster. Slightly offended at the lack of professionalism (forgetting where I live again), I quickly walked out. A few paces down the street the same Gendarme who dismissed us called us back and informed us that the Commandant would return shortly and we could speak with him. Then, this same Gendarme ask my counterpart for his ID card, which, without hesitation, he produced. And not surprisingly, the gendarme held it and my counterpart was too unwilling to ask for it back, much to my annoyance. This is another cultural observation I have noticed. The people are far more accepting of the law's methods and don't usually fight back. My counterpart was too accommodating and pacifistic for my taste. I would have demanded the card back. Respectfully, of course

Eventually, the Commandant came back and invited us into his office. He really is a nice guy and I have enjoyed crossing paths with him. He explained that I was not wrong for asking, but who I asked was wrong. I should have gone directly to him and he would have had no problem answering my questions because he knows who I am and why I am in Senegal. The example he used did reveal a cultural difference between us. He told me in America, someone who inquired about the number of officers and vehicles would be taken back and questioned. I set him strait and respectfully told him the number of officers is public knowledge and military installations are just that - military and civilian access is more scrutinized. He did answer my questions and told me about the challenges the Gendarme face, including playing firemen when needed. Needless to say, they have more roles than they can effectively manage.

In other news, my projects are coming along. Presently, projects and work are coming my way and after my three week training in February, I will be on the hut for bigger and more involved projects. This upcoming training is called In Service Training (IST) and is meant to be 3 months after becoming a volunteer. We are given more technical training, which I hope to use to help some of the groups in my site.

Currently I am working with the 10,000 Girls group to set up their tailoring business, which should open soon. The leader of the group was supposed to come out yesterday to check the room my counterpart found for the business. It met all the requirements, but the owner won't hold it for long. In fact, my counterpart lied and said the money is on the way so the owner would not give it away. Alas, the leader didn't come. Typical.

Another project is a reading room. The 10,000 Girls director has more books than the Library of Congress and needs to get rid of them so they have trying to establish rooms in various cities. These room will be for students to come and do research and study and will be operated by one of the girls in the organization. Luckily, or maybe not, there is a room in the house that my counterpart found, but if the money doesn't come, then the room will be given away and both projects will be put on hold.

Another project is finding wheelchairs for a few disabled girls. Some westerner donated some money for this purpose, but honestly I don't have clue as where to start.

Saturday, I am teaching English. My predecessor and my counterpart established weekly classes for young girls that had to drop out of school and now wish to further their education. Amazingly, this program is working and a few girls have even been accepted back into the state schools. My counterpart teaches English, and one of his friends teaches Math. I'm not sure if there are any other subjects, but I do believe there are. I watched my counterpart teach on Monday and he's pretty good, but I saw some issues. He moved quickly, many girls didn't take notes, only a few participate, and one girl couldn't write. He was reviewing the ABCs, greetings, and the verb "to be." No one new anything. The alphabet was mutilated. I'll be teaching objects in the classroom like "desk" and "chair".

All in all, I'm having fun and enjoying my work. I am however looking forward to the break that IST will afford me. Not to mention, the super bowl party and the multi nation Peace Corps softball tournament. More to come....

The Village People

So I'm back from a three day training seminar in my friend's village. A while back, my boss called me and asked if I would be interested in a Wolof refresher and I jumped on the opportunity.

The village of this particular volunteer is out beyond nowhere and then a left turn - just not the left turn pas the first goat, mind you. Another volunteer and myself had to find our way to Kaffrine on the major highway and wait for the Peace Corps car that would take us to the village in question. This car was also bringing my host, another volunteer and the language teacher. All in all, it was a packed car. I'm so glad I didn't have to take a bush taxi all the way there.

The Peace Corps car picked us up right after dark and we headed off into the bush and very quickly got lost. The driver had decided to go another route unknown to my host. After a few locals who got us nowhere, the driver finally found someone who knew how to get to the village. And of course, he couldn't just tell us. He had to come along. This is very common as knowledge is more valuable than any asset. In the West, we believe that sharing knowledge is key to development, which is a fair argument. But here, knowledge is power. But hey, rice is more important.

Anyways, we finally got to the village around 10 pm and shortly afterwards we had dinner. I went to bed. The driver took off and I don't know what happened to the guide. Oh well.

Now, let me tell you that village life is way different from my cushy pad. My volunteer gets one large bucket of water a day for bathing, drinking and dishes and because of our presence, she got two. Whoopie! 4 days and I showered once! Grumble Grumble.

She didn't have electricity and the first night there I suggested that she have some Christmas lights sent over to illuminate her path to the bathroom. Oh and the crapper! Wow. It's a ce-mented septic tank with a hole on top for your business. Yuck. Again, no running water.

But we did have fun. One volunteer brought cards and another brought gin, so we made it through. In the afternoon, we took bush walks and the agricultural volunteers collected seeds. I just watched. Once evening though, we came across some neolithic stones. I had heard that there were some in a village not too far, but my host had no idea that they were even there. They were upright, porous, red stones in vertical positions that formed a circle, and there were a several of these circles. World Heritage fund needs to pay a visit but the locals have done a good job at leaving them alone.

Holiday Rush

Wow. The last two weeks have been a blur! I left on the 23rd for the regional house in Kaolack and stayed there with a few other volunteers. Overall, it was relaxing and re-energizing to have a break.

By the afternoon on Christmas eve, everyone had shown up and sat down to decide what was on our menu for the holiday. We decided to plan out 3 meals: Christmas Eve, Christmas Day breakfast, and Christmas Day dinner.

For Christmas Eve, we decided to make cakes and cookies, and apple cider, which all turned out excellent due to the cooking abilities of the volunteers. Starvation is a big motivator! By 7pm had rolled out our spread, and everything prepared was delicious. Afterwards, we all dressed up and headed over to the Cathedral for 9;45 Midnight Mass, which was accompanied by a overly shiny nativity scene and the quintessential African black out (no pun intended), forcing us to sit in a dark church for 15 minutes while a few bald brothers scrambled for find a generator.

Christmas Day we made eggs, pancakes, and bacon for breakfast. And then we played games and one opened our white Santa gifts. Christmas Dinner was a ham, which was really expensive, accompanied by bread, mashed potatoes, and other nice items.

On the 28th, I left to go to Tivaouane, where I lived for 2 months while I was in training. I wanted to see my old host family and hang out with the volunteer who is stationed there as we are friends. I did much of nothing. The highlight was having chicken for dinner one evening.On the 30th, the other volunteer and I left for Dakar which has a regional house for volunteers.

New Years Eve in Dakar was amazing. A few of the volunteers who are station around Dakar have become friends with some of the Korean Peace Corps volunteers and so we meet up with them at one of their apartments, which was really a nice pad. I'm jealous. Afterwards, we migrated to an American Peace Corps volunteer's house and I think that is where we rang in the new year... yeah... I think that's where. Dakar is so different from the rest of the country. It's even different from the other major cities and at times, it seemed as if I wasn't in a third world country. But that is the allure of Dakar.

I left Dakar on the second and headed back to the village spending the night at the regional house on the night of the second.