Strikes? Riots? Not here.

written Sunday, 25 November 2007

 

When I came to Tamba from the village a few days ago, I heard from other volunteers, and then read in an email from Peace Corps staff, that there have been lots of strikes in Dakar over the last few days, and even instances of people throwing rocks at police.

 

Strikes aren't anything new here - the teachers always seem to be on strike, seriously impeding children's ability to get an education here.  But this time it sounded like things might be serious - rocks thrown at police, the police responding with tear gas, Peace Corps advising volunteers not to travel to Dakar right now.

 

I've heard that the strikes and riots are about recent rises in the price of wheat flour and gas (gasoline or cooking gas, I'm not sure - could be both).  Also that President Wade is trying to cut the salaries of civil servents, that journalists have been tossed in jail, and even a rumor that he had had some shantytown market area of Dakar bulldozed, destroying people's businesses, supposedly because the corrugated metal and scrapwood buildings didn't fit with his idea of what Dakar is supposed to look like.

 

All rumors.  I have no idea what's true, except that I know that the price of flour, and thus bread, has gone up recently.  And it seems pretty safe to assume that gas prices are going up, because that's the world trend these days. (Neither are a big part of the economy in the villages here).  Beyond that, I don't know.  It's strange to think that I probably know less about what is going on in this country than someone in America with access to CNN and other news sources.

 

It is also strange to come from my very quiet village where nothing has changed to hear reports of chaos in Dakar.  It also makes me wonder about the nature of democracy in a place like this.  I've heard people say that the government could be forced to resign, or even that there could be a coup (I don't believe it).  But supposing that something like a government collapse is a possibility, what does it mean for democracy if the government's ability to survive depends only on keeping the people of Dakar happy?

 

I hope all this gets sorted out.  But in the meantime, I'd appreciate being sent any news clippings about what's going on.

America

written Sunday, 25 November 2007

 

I came up to Tamba on Wednesday to celebrate real Thanksgiving with other volunteers.  Thursday afternoon we all started working on making Thanksgiving food with locally-available ingredients (and with a little help from food packages from our families).  I was making my Thanksgiving potluck usual, pea casserole, with canned peas from the toubab store and those crunch onion things for the topping from a package from my parents.  But the cream of mushroom soup part was a challenge - I've always just used the canned stuff before, but of course that isn't available here.  And I hadn't wanted to ask my parents to mail some because the weight would make it really expensive.  So I'd decided to make that part from scratch, with canned mushrooms (from the toubab store), milk, and flour.

 

Mixing it up to the consistency of cream of mushroom soup turned out not to be very hard at all.  But to get it to taste right... hmm.  What spices to use?  We have a limited, somewhat random selection at the Tamba house.  I gave people tastes of my soup mixture and asked them what spices I should add.  My taste-testers inevitably said, "Well, what do you want it to taste like?"

 

"Like home," I said.

 

Which inspired me with my newest great business idea:  a spice mix called "America" that would be marketed to expats with the slogan, "Just a few sprinkles, and your food will taste just like home."

 

I told the other volunteers about my brilliant idea, and they said, "Great.  But what spices will be in it?"

 

I have no idea.  But if I ever figure that out, I'll be a millionaire.

Village Thanksgiving

Written Monday, 19 November 2007

 

 

Thanksgiving in the village turned out to be a success!  I spent the whole morning helping the women cook (okay, mostly watching – they still won't let me do much) and running to the boutique for more spices or tea or whatever.   And one of my volunteer neighbors came to celebrate with me, so that was really nice for me, although the other women kept complaining about us speaking English to each other.

 

Finally lunch was ready, and there was a ton of food for everyone, and it was delicious.   My sisters had told me to buy potatoes and sweet potatoes for the meal, and I'd wondered what they were going to do with them, since yassa doesn't usually have potatoes in it.  Turns out that they cut them up and fried them like French fries, and then sprinkled them on top of the yassa dish.  I think they were my favorite part of the meal (although the rest was really good too).

 

So I was happy, and all my village family and friends told me they were happy too, especially because there was enough to eat leftovers for dinner too.   It is traditional to give blessings for thanks here, so I was given lots of blessings for a long life, lots of money, and to find a good husband. 

 

I just might have to do this again next year.

Thanksgiving in the village

Written Wednesday, 14 November 2007

 

 

I was in Thies for Easter this year, so I got to learn about a wonderful Senegalese tradition of people of different religions sharing their holiday celebrations with each other.   My host family was Muslim and so they don't celebrate Easter, but Christian friends invited them over for their party and later sent over some of their special Easter food.   And apparently this is a really common thing to do in Senegal.  I think it's a really great way to promote religious tolerance – if everyone gets to enjoy the celebrations of each religion, then the more religions the merrier!

 

Anyway, so I think that is where I got my idea for celebrating Thanksgiving in the village.   I've been thinking about it for several months now, thinking that it would be a much more memorable holiday than just hanging out with other volunteers at the Peace Corps house (although in the end I've decided to do that too, so Thanksgiving in the village is going to be a week before real Thanksgiving).

 

The only thing that was ever really holding me back from committing to the village Thanksgiving plan was cost.   How much would it cost to hold a feast for all my village family and friends?  Answer: about a third of my monthly allowance from Peace Corps, which seems like a huge amount, but in "real life", less than $100.   Not bad.

 

Here's the breakdown for my village Thanksgiving feast of yassa:

 

n     1 medium-sized sheep (alive right now, but it won't be in the morning): $35

n     10 kilos of onions: $8

n     1 bottle of vinegar: $1

n     1 jar of mustard: $1.20

n     2 kilos of sweet potatoes: $1.60

n     2 kilos of Irish potatoes: $2.40

n     lots of pepper: $0.50

n     3 bulbs/heads/whatever they're called of garlic: $0.60

n     2 kilos of carrots: $1

n     20 bouillon cubes (in 2 flavors): $1

n     15 kilos of rice: $8.25

n     5 liters of vegetable oil: $9

n     1 kilo of kola nuts: $4

 

One of my host brothers went to the market to buy the sheep for me, since he is a better judge of sheep than I am, and also could get a better price than I, the "rich toubab" could.   When he brought the sheep home he came over and asked me if I wanted to see my sheep.  I said sure, but as soon as I saw it I realized that was a bad idea because I immediately felt an impulse to name it.   So I told my host brother it was going to make me sad, and I left.  I think he was very confused about my crazy toubab behavior.

 

This is what I have come to

Written Wednesday, 14 November 2007

 

 

Before I joined Peace Corps, I met quite a few returned Peace Corps Volunteers, and several of them assured me that after I had been in Peace Corps for a while, bugs would no longer bother me.   Supposedly, when they get in my food I will eat them happily, glad for the extra protein.

 

Well, I haven't gotten there yet.   But today I got a little closer to that level of "integration" as I was digging through my stash of toubab food and discovered that a mouse had nibbled into a bag of Riesens (chewy chocolatey deliciousness) that my mom sent me.   If this were pre-Peace Corps, I would have thrown the whole bag away immediately (and possibly screamed, if I thought the mouse might still be around).   But this is Africa, and I am in Peace Corps, and I have gotten used to seeing mice running around all over the Peace Corps house in Tamba (which I am pretty sure is where my candy got nibbled – I must just not have noticed it before).   Plus, if I throw away my bag of Riesens, I can't exactly walk to the village boutique to buy another one.

 

So I didn't throw it away.  Instead, I opened the bag and inspected each piece of candy, and discovered that only one piece had actually been nibbled into.  So all the non-nibbled pieces I saved.   Now what to do with the nibbled piece?  Chewy chocolatey deliciousness that has been nibbled by a mouse: is it more delicious, or more gross?

 

Finally I decided to pinch off and throw away the end that the mouse nibbled on, and then I ate the rest.   Delicious.  So this is what I have come to: I am willing to eat mouse leftovers.

Written Wednesday, 14 November 2007

This is what I have come to

 

Before I joined Peace Corps, I met quite a few returned Peace Corps Volunteers, and several of them assured me that after I had been in Peace Corps for a while, bugs would no longer bother me.   Supposedly, when they get in my food I will eat them happily, glad for the extra protein.

 

Well, I haven't gotten there yet.   But today I got a little closer to that level of "integration" as I was digging through my stash of toubab food and discovered that a mouse had nibbled into a bag of Riesens (chewy chocolatey deliciousness) that my mom sent me.   If this were pre-Peace Corps, I would have thrown the whole bag away immediately (and possibly screamed, if I thought the mouse might still be around).   But this is Africa, and I am in Peace Corps, and I have gotten used to seeing mice running around all over the Peace Corps house in Tamba (which I am pretty sure is where my candy got nibbled – I must just not have noticed it before).   Plus, if I throw away my bag of Riesens, I can't exactly walk to the village boutique to buy another one.

 

So I didn't throw it away.  Instead, I opened the bag and inspected each piece of candy, and discovered that only one piece had actually been nibbled into.  So all the non-nibbled pieces I saved.   Now what to do with the nibbled piece?  Chewy chocolatey deliciousness that has been nibbled by a mouse: is it more delicious, or more gross?

 

Finally I decided to pinch off and throw away the end that the mouse nibbled on, and then I ate the rest.   Delicious.  So this is what I have come to: I am willing to eat mouse leftovers.

Tapa-lappa

There are two kinds of bread in Senegal (not counting Dakar, where they have French bakeries and pastry shops) - French baguettes, and village bread.  Village bread is a lot better, in my opinion, because it is chewy instead of having the hard crumbly crust of French bread, and also it is more dense and filling.  And just generally tastes better.

 

Anyway, I just recently learned from other volunteers that the village bread is also called "tapa-lappa", to distinguish it from baguettes.  (In my village, the village bread is just called "bread", because there is no French bread to compare it to, but in Tamba, you have to choose between "baguettes" and "pain du village", or "tapa-lappa").  I had never heard a Senegalese person refer to the bread as tapa-lappa, so I asked about it, and learned that tapa-lappa is a Pulaar word that means "hit it and beat it".  So for breakfast this morning, I bought two small "hit-it-and-beat-its" from the bread man who stops by the Peace Corps house on his bike every morning.

A busy week

Written Thursday, November 8, 2007

 

 

It's been a really busy week and a half or so.   Monday last week, just after I came back from a trip to Tamba, there was a big ceremony in a neighboring village to celebrate the reconstruction of their primary school by the French army.   So I spent the day at the party, where they had lots of speeches (by government people, French army people, and a local school teacher), traditional dancing (some of the French soldiers danced, and the villagers thought their dance moves were hilarious), and tons of food, including more meat per person than I have ever seen in Senegal.

 

Just after that, a couple of American college students who are studying abroad in Dakar came to stay with me for a few days so they could experience village life.   I had a lot of fun showing them around.  I have to say they were much less overwhelmed by the whole experience than I was when I went on my "demyst" trip when I first arrived in Senegal; but then, they have already been in country for two months, whereas I had been here only about two days.   We spent a lot of time at the river trying to spot hippos (which I still haven't seen this whole time I've been here), but the hippos didn't cooperate.   Some monkeys did come out on the other side of the river and chase each other around for a while, keeping us entertained while we waited for the hippos that never showed up.

 

After the college students left, it was time for me to get back to real work.   So my village counterpart and I have restarted holding health classes for women, and we are also going to start going around to each compound to talk with women individually about their health concerns.   And now I am in Tamba for a few days seeing if we can finally make some progress on getting a matron (like a midwife, but with less training than a real midwife) trained for our village.  

 

And after what a nice new school the neighboring village has, my village chief (who is also my host dad) has asked me to check into getting the French army, or an NGO or someone, to fix up our school as well.   Our school is not in terrible shape, but currently not all the children in the village are able to go to school because there is not enough classroom space (or so they tell me – my first step is going to be to verify this), and there is only one teacher to teach all the primary grades.   So next week I'm going to try to check into what our school really needs, whether it's more classroom space, or just a second teacher (which we are supposed to have, but the last teacher got sick and left and never got replaced, leaving us with just one).

 

Before moving to the village, I heard from so many volunteers that I needed to be prepared to have lots of free time on my hands – that I would be reading a lot, and sleeping a lot, and would need to make a lot of effort to come up with activities to keep myself busy.   Well, I've been living in the village almost six months now, and that hasn't happened yet.  I am feeling a little cheated.   I could really use a nap.

A baboon! ...or a sorcerer?

Written Thursday, November 08, 2007

 

 

A few days ago I woke up at about 3 am to the sound of men running around and yelling.   Usually the village is pretty quiet around then (except for the usual racket of dogs fighting, and donkeys braying, and sheep baa'ing…), so I was pretty curious about what was going on.   But not curious enough to get out of bed.  The village can be kind of scary at night time. 

 

So I stayed in bed and got back to sleep eventually, and in the morning I asked about what all the racket had been about.   My sister told me that a baboon had come into the village, and was climbing around on the roofs of my host family's huts.  So the men had come out to try to kill it, but it had escaped.

 

Baboons are pretty big – about three feet tall when they're squatting, and probably weigh around 50 lbs.   So I was glad I had stayed in bed, and not gotten in the way of a scared baboon being attacked by men with slingshots.

 

Later in the day I asked again about the baboon, because I was wondering if it's really safe for me to be sleeping outside in my backyard.   Am I in danger of getting attacked by wild animals?  But this time I was told that it wasn't really a baboon that came into the village, it just looked like a baboon.   It was really a sorcerer who had turned himself (or herself) into a baboon to attack people in the village.  Much more dangerous than a baboon.  

 

The people I was talking to made sure to explain to me that most Muslim religious leaders in the area say that this sort of belief is false (clearly it is something left over from the traditional animist religion), but most people still believe in it anyway.

 

Whether it's a baboon or a sorcerer, I'm glad it's cool enough right now for me to sleep inside my hut with the door locked.