Erin’s Sojourn in Senegal

Actually I just touched the soil with my index finger but it was an adventure nonetheless. The biggest thing that’s happened these past two weeks is me working up enough courage to go swimming in the Senegal River. When med came in during PST to talk about the dangers of living here in Africa, they warned us, among many things, not to swim in the river because one can pick up a chronic disease called schistosomiasis.

Two months ago I vowed to be as diligent as possible with my health safety, meaning I would not swim in the river and I would always bleach my water, but that is just not practical. I went as far as to drink water that had ants floating in it the other day because I was really thirsty. I figured I had two choices: swim in the river and possibly get schisto or not swim in the water and possibly get schisto from accidently stepping in a puddle.

Was I afraid? Yes. I was very afraid. I heard talk of hippos being in the water and that scared me a bit, but I had also heard talk of mermaids lurking around so I wasn’t sure what I could believe anyway. The river is 25 kilometers (that’s 16 miles) away from Thilogne and one must travel through the hot desert to get there. I swam across and touched Mauritania and swam back against the surprisingly strong current. The most frightening part was when I saw what looked to be a big pot in the water only to discover it was a dead dog when I got close to it.

In work related news, I finished a mural about breastfeeding. In Pulaar it reads, “During their first 5 months, babies should eat and drink breast milk only.” I’m currently working on a hand-washing mural because absolutely no one I’ve seen washes their hands with soap before eating. Speaking of eating, the dinner menu at my house now rotates between pasta with onion sauce and potatoes with onion sauce each night.

I also spent a couple days at the regional house in Ndioum last week, which was a nice break. We do things there like read, bake, and watch back to back movies. For more pictures, click on “Settling into Thilogne” on the right.

Poetry, as defined by William Wordsworth, is “The spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings arising from emotion recollected in tranquility.” When I studied Wordsworth briefly in school, I did not fully appreciate his philosophy as I do now, sitting in an air conditioned room, attempting to recount the past ten days at my new site as far removed from my current situation as possible. I am in a city called Ourossogui, about an hour and a half away from my site in Thilogne. Here, positive and rational thoughts can more easily get to my brain, thereby allowing my account to be more fair and objective (for those of you wanting to hear the heat and stress-influenced version, write to me and I’ll be happy to share it with you).

Thilogne is a fairly big city (around 15,000 people) with a small village feel to it. There are twelve mosques, a high school, a health post, a couple elementary/middle schools, and a small market. It is an established and functioning city, and according to the nurse at the health post, it has no major health problems (so why am I working as a health volunteer here? I’ll try to answer that question for the both of us in the coming months). My host family is very nice and hospitable, and though they are always willing to talk to me and take me places, they also respect my privacy.

For the first two months at site, we have to do a few village surveys and collect some data, but our main goal is to learn the language, and that is what I have been trying to do the past several days. Every day, I go out and meet people, I introduce myself and let them know why I am here. Everyone is really open and inviting here, so I don’t have to try at all; in fact, it’s almost impossible to not talk to people every time I leave the house. Imagine that every time you went to the grocery store, you had to say ‘hello, how are you, how are you with the fatigue, how are you with the heat, it’s hot, I’m good, thanks to God’ to every person you passed. That is what people do here - it’s the culture. If I were to walk from my house to the health post and my village were deserted, it would take about ten minutes. Because I have to greet every person I see, it takes about thirty minutes. Oftentimes, people will invite me to have tea with them or eat with their family, so opportunities for learning the language are in no short supply (although I still cannot understand a whole lot of what people say to me).

Let’s now talk about food! For breakfast I eat bread or porridge. In order to get more protein, I cook my own lunches - beans or lentils and one/two of the three vegetables currently available at the market: onion, eggplant, and carrot. For dinner, I eat with the family, and the dish rotates between beans and couscous each night. Food variety will get better in a couple months after the rainy season, inshallah.  Read More »

Bootcamp is officially over and we are now Peace Corps Volunteers!  We took oath yesterday at the residence of Madame US Ambassador.  We all dressed in traditional Senegalese outfits - boubous for the men and complets for the women - and the room was bursting with color.

The entire ceremony was was televised and included speeches from the US ambassador, the Secretary General of Senegal, and three volunteers from our group who spoke in the local languages (Mandinka, Pulaar, and Wolof).  At the end of the program, we had cocktails, hors d’oeuvres, and deserts, which was really nice, yet for some reason The Last Supper came to mind.

Afterwards, we went to a magical place in Dakar called The American Club.  I walked through the gate and felt like I was walking through the wardrobe into Narnia.  Tennis courts, a swimming pool, American food, a lounge, a playground… It was an incredibly surreal experience but it was great to play some tennis and swim some laps.

Tomorrow, we are off to our villages to get installed.  We will spend a couple nights in a hotel in a neighboring city, where we will buy our household supplies, then we will set up camp in our villages.  We stay there for two months, and in mid-July we come back to Thies for In-service Traing (IST).

In other news, I want to congratulate the Pulaar group from Mboro for winning the garden competition!  We put in long hours, worked hard, and almost always came home with goat poop in our fingernails.  I think we did a surprisingly great job considering we only had a two hour gardening demonstration at the training center and only one person from our group had any gardening experience.

If you would like to see photos of the Trainee vs. Trainer soccer match, the ceremony with our host families, and more photos of the winning garden and swearing-in, click on ‘End of PST’ on the right.

Our group of PCTs decided to celebrate Easter together on the beach in Mboro. The day was filled with the usual beach activities: throwing a Frisbee, swimming in the ocean, chasing away large groups of unruly kids whose parents are invisible, building sandcastles, etc.

It was during this mini vacation when I realized how much easier I am to please now, compared to two months ago. When I got to the hotel we were staying at and noticed a shower with temperature control and a flush toilette with toilette paper, I felt like I was walking into the Ritz. As I was walking through the market, I thought about how I used to be picky about where I went grocery shopping; now I would be ecstatic to go any supermarket that doesn’t smell like dead fish and urine. So I feel like the Peace Corps is having a positive effect on me.

Saturday night, I decided to check out the Easter vigil mass at the Catholic church. The service went from 10:00 in the evening until 2:00 in the morning, and although the mass was long, the choir was great. There were different types of drums and amazing harmonies - reminiscent of Lion King music and of the same quality.

The trip concluded with a ride on an “Alhamdoulilah,” which is usually a death-defying experience. Alhamdoulilah means “thanks be to God” in Arabic, and it is not painted on the front of these buses for no reason. They are often in such poor condition and have so many people crammed into them and have so much luggage piled high on top that it is truly thanks to God if you make it to your destination in one piece. Lucky for us, we arrived safely back at the Thies training center on Monday, Alhamdoulilah.

We just had volunteer visits. For those of you just tuning in, VV is when we all take a trip out near the village we will be staying in for the next two years. This is a lengthy post; in a nutshell, it was boiling hot. For details about the trip, continue reading…

We started off at around 7:00 am in a sept-place, which is a car that can “comfortably” seat seven people, and it is one of the main forms of transportation here. The drive was fun - I felt like I was in a video game with all the pot holes, goats, and trucks we were swerving the whole time. Around the half way point, in the middle of literally no where, our driver stopped by a shelter made of sticks and started unloading baggage. I was confused for a moment until I noticed a white girl standing there, and I realized we were dropping off two of our trainees, whose village was 5 k off the road.

We said goodbye and good luck to them, and the three of us remaining continued North. At several points during the drive I was on the verge of telling the driver that I thought it was about time to turn on the AC, but then I remembered where I was. After traveling for about 10 hours, Renee and I bid farewell to Vivienne and met Marisa, who arrived on a charette. Marisa is a PCV who has been in Senegal for a year, and she was nice enough to have us trainees tag along with her for the week. For me, she was also proof that an American can survive for a year in the Senegal Sahel.

Her village was located 7 k from the main road, had no electricity, and had a limited water supply, so it was a very humbling and interesting experience, to say the least. In her village, the water is shared with another village, so the three faucets there are turned on for only three hours in the day. This means that all the women line up their buckets early and take turns filling them up for all the laundry, cooking, and cleaning they have to do that day.

I tried carrying a small bucket on my head, much to the amusement of the other women and children there, and for my first time I thought I did a pretty good job - I didn’t spill a drop!

The one thing that consumed my every thought, however, wasn’t so much the water but the heat. It starts around noon and lasts until around 5 o’clock. The temperature was over 100 degrees the whole time, and during these five hours every day, with no air conditioning, no swimming pool, and no freezer, the only thing to do is lie around and hallucinate. During these hours, doing the smallest task was the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. I have never been so hot in my life, and it was weird to have my body slow down as much as it did during the day.

For those of you who know me, you know I am not usually fond of sitting around doing nothing during the day, but in the Fouta I had no choice but to give in (or go to the hospital due to heat stroke). The picture below is a typical scene of an afternoon lying on mats under a shelter.

Despite the heat, we managed to paint a mural, have a health meeting with the village women and visit my new site in Thilogne.  I also managed to get bit by a scorpion in my sleep.  In any case, it was a fun week and I’m glad I know what to expect.  On a positive note, the evenings, mornings, and the hospitality of the village more than made up for the cruel day. If you want to see more photos of the Volunteer Visit, click on the link on the right.

Two weeks have gone by since my last post, and I feel much better about being here.  I love looking at a sky full of stars at night, I enjoy riding my bike everywhere instead of sitting in traffic, and I actually like waking up to a freezing cold bucket bath (it is really effective).  It is hard to believe all that has been accomplished in under a month.  Since four of us trainees moved into our home stays in Mboro, we have turned a barren sand pit into a four-bed garden (and plants are growing!), we have learned enough Pulaar to be able to tell you what we did over the weekend and about our work and family (I received a ‘Novice High’ rating on my first oral exam two days ago), and we have made a mural and a mud stove for the elementary school.

Now that we are settled in with our host families and know the area pretty well, it is almost time to leave.  Yes, the home stays are only temporary.  Two days ago, we found out where our real sites would be in Senegal.  It was an exciting time for everyone.  We all knew the general area we would be living in, based on the language we are learning, but each site is very different.  We were taken to the basketball court in the Training Center, where a huge map of Senegal was painted on the ground.   We all had to close our eyes, and one by one we were led to the location of our site-to-be on the map.  Then we all opened our eyes and tried to figure out if we liked where we were standing (in the end, it doesn’t matter if you like your site or not, you are stuck with it).

I will be going to Thilogne! The site is in Northern Senegal, about 150 kilometers East of Podor, on the Senegal River, and I will be the first volunteer there – a pioneer!  I heard from another volunteer in that region that it takes about fourteen hours to get to Dakar, so if something happens to me I’m in big trouble, basically (don’t worry, Mom, I will be careful).  Thilogne is a village with a population of 15,000, which is huge compared to the typical 500-person village.  I originally thought I would be living in a hut within a family’s compound, but since my village is fairly big, it turns out I will have my own apartment.  I am very happy about my site because I will have my own bathroom, I will be able to cook my own food, and I will also have a family nearby who I can eat meals with.  Before coming to Senegal, I told the Peace Corps that I didn’t mind where I was, if I had electricity or not.  However, after having a taste of minimal electricity for a month, I am incredibly relieved to have electricity at my new site.

This Monday, we trainees will be getting on a bus and traveling to a site close to our future site and staying there for six days in order to get a feel for where we will be spending the next two years.  I heard it’s much hotter up there in the Fouta desert than it is here by the coast, and I was told to bring snacks because the ‘starving season’ has begun.  Needless to say, I am excited but a bit nervous about the trip.

I have been in Senegal, Africa, now for almost two weeks although it seems impossible that it has been less than a year. The 26 other PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) and stayed in the city of Thiès (pronounced “chess”) for the first four days at the Peace Corps Training Center, a compound which has been transformed from barracks that housed French soldiers into a peaceful training site. The compound’s high walls and quaint gardens, as well as the calm and quiet atmosphere amidst a loud and bustling city give it the look and feel of a convent, or what I imagine an inner-city convent to be like.

The four days at the training center were one big crash course on all the basic things we needed to know before being thrown into the ‘real world’ of Senegal. For instance, we learned about Islam, gardening in Senegal, local food and drink, Senegalese dress and how to imitate it, how to eat from a communal bowl, how to use Turkish toilettes with water instead of toilette paper, how to do a home-kit stool sample, and how to stay safe and healthy. I was very impressed how organized Peace Corps was with the training; however, a lifetime of preparation and lectures could not have adequately prepared me for the real Senegal.

On the fifth day in Senegal, we were released from the training sanctuary and put in a village with host families based on the language we will be learning (for me, that is Pulaar). When I arrived at my host family’s home, I felt like I had had been pulled out of a warm bath and plunged into freezing cold water. After the training center, the house, with its cement walls and floors, dim lighting, and virtually no furnishings felt like a dungeon. My stress level went through the roof, and I have been slowly adapting since then. I am going through serious withdrawal right now. I miss sufficient electricity, clean running water, regular internet access, carpet, air conditioning, cold drinks, and the list goes on.

Thankfully, though, I have a really nice family who thinks I am allergic to all animal products, so my host mother makes me delicious vegetarian dishes. For example, last night she made me carrots, potatoes, and green beens, with an onion vinaigrette. I can only hope my next host family will be as nice. Despite the hospitality of my host family, the past week in the village was hard for me. Because I have lived in other countries, I thought that I was exempt from culture shock, but I am experiencing it now to the extreme. I have to admit that it is more emotionally taxing than I thought to be in a human fishbowl. Riding my bike or walking through the village, I do not go unnoticed.

During PST, three other PCTs and I have language classes everyday (which do not take away any frustration), and we also have a gardening project that we are working on at the local elementary school. PST lasts until the end of April, when we will will be sworn in as Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs), and it is then that we will move into our ‘permanent’ sites and the two years of service will begin. To see more photos, look to the right of the screen.  You will see a ‘Photos’ category, and under that ‘Pre-Service Training.’  Click on that and it will take you to many more photos of my adventures here. I miss you all! Thanks for reading!

I will be leaving Virginia on the 26th of February to go to Philadelphia for the pre-departure orientation. Then it’s off to Thies, Senegal, where I will begin Pre-Service training.