me & me

it's nearing the end

I'm in Dakar for my official Close of Service conference. They're sort of jumping the gun with that name because none of us are allowed to leave for awhile yet. Anyhow, it promises to be a good 3 days. We're at a nice hotel in Dakar, they feed us, there's a pool ... you get the picture. 

After the conference volunteers from all over West Africa will descend on the city for an annual softball tournament. I'm curious about the turnout. Since last year's event two neighboring countries (Mauritania and Guinea) have had to close their programs due to terrorism and political unrest. That's quite a few softball teams down. I won't be stepping in to fill the gap either because - little known fact - I hate flying objects. This includes softballs. 

Follow up

The little girl who disappeared a few days ago had been found. The way I heard the story is that her aunt owed people money and they were going to kill her if she didn't pay up. So she relocated with her young niece to another town. 

Does that make sense to you? Me neither. But the girl's okay and I don't really care to hear the whole story. 

I don’t like these people (updated!)

A little girl in Dorothy’s compound was beaten so badly today her hand is broken. Her host-mom delivered the beating with a stick because she stole (a little) money from the boutique and bought peanuts.

I know stealing is bad, but the girl is probably 7. I confess I didn’t react to well to the site of her hand which everyone of course found hilarious. No, I didn’t throw an all-out temper tantrum, but I was visibly angry. That pretty much guarantees people will laugh at me.

I was still steaming when I got home and told Fatimata why I was upset, mainly because I love this response and knew it would cheer me up: The only reason they don’t (really, really) beat the children in my compound is because “Bala went to school and learned everything.”

Seriously though, this was not a good day for Dorothy's compound. One of the women had a baby yesterday and Dorothy reported she thought they were feeding the baby tea because the new mother wasn’t able to breastfeed.

I assured Dorothy that was highly unlikely, and it was probably the vitamin syrup all new babies go home with here. 

Nope. She was right. They’re definitely feeding the hours-old infant caffeinated tea and sugar. Once that suspicion was confirmed Dorothy went and bought formula. Then they told her that they had been told to buy formula, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

It should be noted that Dorothy’s family can afford formula. That boutique the little girl stole money from is owned by them. They have money. 

Crap, Bala just got home (I hear his motorcycle), I wonder if he heard about my spat in the garage? Probably, news travels fast here. 

Update: Apparently the tea is not such a bad idea. It keeps the baby hydrated, and the boiled water is safe for him to drink. This is good to know. 

A few bullet points

a) We were chatting before dinner tonight when someone came over the prayer speaker and shut us all up. A little girl, about 5, has been missing since this morning. The man on the speaker asked anyone who "has her over" to please send her home, and others to keep a lookout. 

That leaves you with a sick feeling in your stomach. This place is pretty small, so she can't be far. I hope she is ok. When I said that at home we usually worry that someone "stole" the missing child, everyone told me that doesn't happen here. 

b) There is a rumor going around that people are offering gifts of cash or clothes in crowded areas, like the nearby market town. If you take the gift home you die. Simple as that. So don't accept gifts. 

I told my family that was a rumor and we didn't have to worry. They didn't harp on it, which has me wondering. Dorothy and Kelly's families were supposedly frantic over the "death gifts," telling them a whole day before my family told me. Is my family more level-headed or less concerned about my safety? 

c) When the Imam banned speakers at baptisms he had my full, enthusiastic support. So I was dismayed today when I thought a family was disobeying the edict. It's ok though, I've been assured they're just Catholics and don't have to obey the Imam. 

Since the Pope hasn't weighed in on speakers, to my knowledge, I really have no grounds for resentment. Still, I pouted a bit at the celebration tonight because I thought I was done with that torture. 

d) A gossip session with my host-sister Thaine was interrupted today by a loud wailing from a couple compounds over. Later I learned a man died last night when his hut burned down. 

About an hour later someone stopped me in town to say that a mutual acquaintance of ours had lost all his belongings in a separate hut fire last night. There were no injuries, but I admit to briefly thinking "oh no! they accepted gifts," (see item "b"). 

bragging rights

We have a new high school in my village this year. The principal swears to me it's the worst equipped high school in the country. I can't verify that, but I can vouch that it's pretty bad. 

Here's the staff discussing schedules in the "administrative building."  

 

They started with three classrooms, not enough for 250 students. The grass lean-to on the side is a common remedy. 

 

Lastly, here is the school's bathroom. 

 

I'm out of here soon, but my replacement is going to be assigned to work at this school.  

In other news, I hope to have pictures of the middle school's new computer lab soon. Thank you to everyone who helped with that particular project. The high school wants me to give them a few of the computers too, but I told them they would have to get electricity first.  

Today only lacked a wedding

I went to a child’s funeral and then a baptism in the space of an hour today. 

It felt off

I was sitting by the fire tonight, watching Kumba cook and listening to an argument between two women in the family, when I heard an annoying sound.

Mariama was spoon feeding her baby, but he was lying down and screaming. The annoying sound was the bubbling of the food in his mouth, muffling the sound of the screams. I presume he was screaming for air, because it honestly sounded like she was drowning him in gruel.

Now, “behavior change” (pushed by development organizations the world over) isn’t really my thing. I just naturally assume people know better than me, and if they don’t, than as long as it isn’t killing them I guess I’m fine. Thing was, it sort of did sound like she was killing the baby.

So I roused myself and told her she shouldn’t feed a baby lying down, because that weird choked screaming was a bad thing. I’m convinced this was the right thing to say, but it still feels odd to instruct a woman with four children on childrearing.

Just a little misunderstanding

As many of you know, I pay my little sisters to do my laundry. Most volunteers do the same thing. Not only is it a good excuse to give teenage girls some spending money, but well – the novelty of hand washing clothes wears off as soon as you start 

It should be noted, some volunteers do their clothes themselves because they are “bored.” I don’t know what’s going on in their compounds, but I’ve never been that bored in my life.   

Yesterday I gave Astou Mbaye some clothes to wash in my blue basin. I have two basins. I alternate them, keeping laundry in one, and unfiltered drinking water in the other. Usually when they take one for laundry they use if for a number of household items, and I get it back a few days later. 

No big deal. Until this morning, when I walked out and Mariama was washing her baby’s training toilet in the basin. I don’t think I’m overly prissy – but I drink out of that!!

Life's cycles

It’s that special time of the year again! Yup, the dry season when the winds pick up, everything’s coated in dust, and the bugs that hid during the rainy season start to emerge. 

I was sweeping my floor yesterday when the broom strayed beneath a bag under my bed, and a few thousand ants came swishing out along with the dirt. 

It’s not that big of deal, they don’t bite, but poison really is the only way to get rid of them. So I sprinkled it under he bed and purposely didn’t eat any spice last night or tonight at dinner. I’m slightly stuffed up, and if I stay that way then I won’t be able to smell the poison. 

And then, if all goes according to plan, I won’t dream that I’m dying of cancer. 

Fair-weather friend

I threw a friend under the bus today. 

Fatima came to the village from Dakar to have her baby. She’s not from around these parts, and believe me it shows. 

She came over today to pound the rice and peanuts for tomorrow’s breakfast (it’s an acquired taste). The women use a huge wooden club to pound just about everything here. Sometimes I make a token effort to help, and I can assure you it’s hard work. 

Poor Fatima thought she had finally finished her pounding (we took turns) and was ready to go when Fatimata, a woman in my compound, came over to inspect the results. She started scolding Fatima for the large pieces of peanuts still in the rice. 

“Fatimata, she’s from Dakar,” I said, interrupting her mid-lecture. “And you’re a Pulaar woman.”

Well! The implication was clear. Fatimata is a hardy, salt of the earth, village woman. Fatima, being city-folk and all, is incapable of pounding rice and peanuts properly.

Oh Fatima, Fatima – forgive me.