Food Frustrations

My preparations for Peace Corps included reading “Im glad that didn’t happen to me” blogs, sharing my anxiety with volunteers currently serving in Africa via emailed questions, and of course shopping to fill my luggage with everything I thought I’d need for 2 years. I got a few laughs from the blogs, some of which I wouldn’t dare show my apprehensive family, and I even got some good advice from chatting with faraway volunteers, but I still wish I only packed a fifth of what the Peace Corps guidelines recommended. My girlish love of clothes probably didn’t help the case—2 suitcases actually. During the summer before my departure, I was easily excitable over outdoorsy attire and utility pockets.  

I took spring cleaning to a new level and finished it off by locking all my old quirky Jessica things up in storage (thankfully my Dad had space in his). Before I knew it, I was walking through Dulles International Airport as a shiny, new volunteer in the making with a nifty backpack, a boyish haircut, and loose, comfy cargo pants.

Sigh. I was probably most fit before coming to Senegal. In many of those blogs, I read about PC weight trends with real nonchalance-- guys trim down and girls get a little fluffy. As many probably do, I reassured myself that I wouldn’t succumb to the typical trends. Several months and 15 pounds later, I finally understood the frustrations of the freshman fifteen. Nearly a year and a half into service now, I suspect this weight isn’t going to leave until it sees America.

Those comfy cargo pants that once lay around my hips so ominously now cling tightly to my thighs. The pair of lazy-day jeans I brought along only zip after an inch-by-inch wiggle dance that leaves too much strain on the button for me to actually wear them.  I shamefully admit that occasionally I try them on, hoping to reveal a prior form. Three pairs of pants are on the sidelines, but like any hopeful girl they will sit in my dark trunk as a reminder. Im quite thankful that I went for a conservative, baggy collection otherwise everything I brought would have been useless. What is interesting is that I’m hardly spending any money on food.

The culture in Senegal is tightly woven around hospitality and the food. Regardless of which household or village Im in, people want to make me feel welcomed, share whatever bit of food they can, and as many grandmothers would say, put a little more meat on my bones. For example, when I visit other families and villages for any purpose, they insist that I stay for the next meal (even if its 5 hours away), stay for a couple cups of hot tea, or take a sack of the seasonal fruit for the road. This can be exciting when people are eating something delicious, in my perspective that would be kosam (sour milk/yogurt), but discerning genuine from obligatory invitations is beyond me.

I don’t think I would worry about my womanly figure if I was gorging myself in gourmet meals. Season to season, we eat out way through the staple crops in the storage hut, which is primarily white rice for my family.  As we go from harvesting with an ample supply of grain and peanuts to starving season, the variety of meals dwindles from maybe five to one sad bowl of charity rice. It’s those repeated meals of nutrient-lacking white rice that nearly bring me to tears, leave an unsatisfying rock in my tummy, and maintain the width of my hips.

I wish I was kidding or exaggerating; I didn’t eat rice before Senegal and this has only left me loathing it. The understanding that Senegalese culture centers on family and food, one of the few expressions of appreciation and love, might be the last reason that I don’t try supplementing all mealtimes. I’m not going to be the foreign prude and I’m done going in circles. I’m making the most out of sharing meals with my family by buying whatever veggies I can get my hands on during trips into town. Living in- or even visiting- a foreign country will remind you of the love for your own country and its simple comforts.

Latrines and English!

Two months ago Appropriate Projects approved a $500 grant in support of the construction of nearly 20 latrines in and around my village in the Kolda Region. I have had a firm stance against free handouts, but the people came to me with health concerns and a willingness to help.  The effort spent digging ~3 meters into the stubborn earth followed by construction of latrine platforms seemed like a fair trade for cement and metal materials.
The project provides about 20 family compounds, nearly 800 people with essential means to sanitary latrines... or as a few of them have said, they wont have to run out to the snakey forest in the middle of the night to relieve themselves.
The project closed with 3 fewer latrines than projected due to miscalculations and material readjustments during construction. Doing math with a Senegalese man may be one of the most frustrating obstacles I faced, equally matched with trying to get receipts from everyone.
The project took on a slow start due to harvesting commitments of field crops, several funerals, and the ongoing difficulty gauging the truth in progress updates. The work pace increased (and by that I mean started) with my presence in most cases, so as the project progressed I oversaw more of the work. Another motivational tactic was taking before and after photos of the pits and the final product. With that I must admit to my new technologically challenged way. I have photos on my camera that I cant get out. Ill work it out (Inshallah) but no promises as to when.
In the next stage, the local health volunteers and prominent members of the 6 villages and I plan to have health trainings to first off commend the people for their community contribution and to discuss important benefits as they see fit. Im satisfied with the success of the project and look forward to the next wave of crazy requests theyll send my way.
During my tours of the villages, I offered to teach English to kids that have started studying it in school, help women with their upcoming dry season gardens and new ideas, and even look into a well-digging project pitched by a very convincing man in Sare Kallilou, a nearby village. I was blunt with people, saying that I am just sitting and waiting for them to share how I can help. With this I expected more odd requests than usual. People ask me to give them everything insight on my person, to take them or their baby to America, and to marry them/their son. Ive resolved to saying Ill give things to them upon my departure, Ill steal their (now crying) babies, and I only accept to marry toddlers and one very interesting old woman that insists I curtsy to show my respect.
Piles of kids show up and fill my floor mat when we both have free time to practice English. Once reminded of my rules, which are very different from the school house, they are so excited for the attention. The no-gos: They repeatedly snap their fingers instead of raining their hands. no. They whisper the answers and hit each other on the back of the head upon silence. no. They cannot just sit and insist on getting up (a kid thing). still no. As long as they're nice to each other, we chat until the cows come home (hehe, but literally) or we're all tired. I love it. (Again, I have photos, but my camera is not cooperating)

Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année!

My holiday break carried me down 345 km of twisting and turning, well-worn and poorly maintained road back to Kedougou. It was a painless trip that I made in record time. Yes, I use the chrono function on my handy watch for everything. For the first time, I even got to sit in the somewhat more comfortable front seat of the 7place/car, which is usually reserved for fragile old men.
It's a lonely road lacking  the structure of reflective lines and mile markers. The simplicity doesn't distract from the orange clay landscape of towering (or recently burned to the ground) grasses, grandfather trees, and the occasional troop of baboons or monkeys. I prefer my daze tied to nature rather than our tar and tin attempts to civilize it. The ecology of Kedougou is quite different from my Casamance region. It is the furthest inland region and the differences can't even be from from the car. The clay clings to every traveler's stained heels and bristly hair, the thorny trees are a little more rugged and will gladly offer scratch to take home, and the remaining wildlife is just abundant enough to offer an exciting glimpse. 

I got into town just in time for Christmas festivities. *Wooh* After tag teaming for Skype time home with a few other volunteers, we nestled right in and shared the holiday with all the things we can't do in village. First things first, we knowingly binge ate pork stew from market fresh ingredients, desserts from much appreciated home-sent packages, a classy Christmas brunch that lasted all day, and lastly appropriate beverages.

More family time was spent popping corn (without a microwave!), projecting movies outside at night, and exchanging the oddest collection of While Elephant gifts imaginable. Mine was hot dog hand puppet that I couldnt pass up at the thrift section of the market. Oh I can't say enough how comforting the little things are when everything is turned upside down. I don't get weekends to sleep in and do a lazy load of laundry. I don't even get cozy nights at a home separate from my work site. I'm working at all hours and representing PC in all my actions. With just a peek into this, maybe you can understand how wonderful it is to escape just far enough to be your nearly forgotten self, or at least part of it.

Ive gotta dash back to site because the guilt is working on me and the day is creeping by, but an update on the best Camping weekend is soon to come... includes: biking, a crocodile, waterfall  swimming, open flame cooking, food shortage, and a bush fire.

Project Planning

Dollar Amount of Project: $500.00.           Dollar Amount Needed: $0.00

     Our community latrine project has now been fully funded through the generosity the Hack & Slash, who have designated Water Charity as a beneficiary of this year'sHack and Slash Christmas Special Live Onstage and in Technicolor!, held in Baltimore, MD.  This is an important public health project for Sare Meta and the surrounding villages. It has been well planned, has widespread community support, and will serve as a model for future development.

Project Summary: 

Location:
6 villages in the Kolda region of Senegal: Sare Meta*, Sare Pathe, Sare Labbel, Sare Kallilou, Sare Konkoyel, Sare Samba
Community:
My humble home of Sare Meta is a small, centrally located village of 315 residents, a large number of those children, with 5 neighboring villages (listed above) in small, branching clusters.

During interviews at each village, hygiene and sanitation issues were the most pressing health concerns, specifically proper latrine availability. The area has a limited amount of quality latrines, most existing latrines were poorly constructed with mud and found objects, and 24 household are currently without any facility. Residents living in huts without any latrines admit to relieving themselves in the bush, forests, and even right behind their homes.
The Plan:Across the 6 villages, we plan to build 22 latrines in  family compounds that are completely without. The catch? The 500$ grant through Appropriate Projects water charity funds will provide for the cement and metal supports with the understanding that the families supply all labor, including digging the 2 meter deep pits, retrieving materials (via donkey cart), and building the iron-reinforced platform with extra wood supports. sounds like a deal. 
The idea behind the sustainable latrine design is that the family will be able to relocate the platform to a new pit once the first fills. No worries, several villagers are familiar with this design and all for it.

Estimated Impact: 

895 people will benefit. score. 

Peace Corps Volunteer Directing Project:
yours truly

403 Days of Senegal

     Its been one year since my swear-in as a volunteer. I now would like to present myself as an upperclassman Agfo volunteer, which does not embody all of the characteristics that I put on the all knowing volunteers before me. I assumed they had it all together, somehow mastered the language, and had all their trees in a row. Now that I am in their dusty shoes- quite literally since Ally gifted just gifted me her chacos at the end of her service, I realize that there is still a degree of chaos and uncertainty, I still speak a very broken Pulaar, and work is still as difficult as ever. The thing is this is all okay and normal.
     The difference that I have found in this stretch is the basic understanding of how a lot of things work. Im comfortable and its that simple. I understand my work along with the tremendous amount of energy required to accomplish anything and Im happy to reach out to this land that Im more often then not fond of.

Summary: I am happy.

A spot of tea...blisters

A fine African day was in the making, it was already 85* IN my hut at 8 a.m., and my oh so trusty bike was on the bench with a flat tire. Everything was pointing towards a low key hut day but I already told a neighboring village I would come by to hang out. Since I have to pass this village on the way to town, I stop by just long enough to greet people and maybe chat about my latest work.  Instead of patching my tire, I decided to walk. I grabbed the necessities, sunblock, bandanna, sunglasses, and water, for my daily battle with the sun and was on my way.

I bounced between a few compounds to say hello before settling in with Haabi Sabaly in Amoudou's household. She told me yesterday that she would be staying home to wash laundry and make lunch instead of working the fields. I was welcomed with a shady seat, several commands to sit, and breakfast porridge. I sent a boy to buy tea an sugar, we like to call this "small boying it."
I falsely assumed someone would takeover cooking the tea if I bought it. After drinking God knows how many hot shots of attaya, I finally made my first round! Even though I kept asking the people around me for a little direction, they weren't very helpful.
    1. Get box of tea, sack if sugar, and hot coals
    2. Heat teapot & then add tea
    3. Once boiling, add 1 shot of sugar
    4.burn fingers by removing teapot to cool
    5. Burn fingers more by pouring tea back and forth btwn glasses to cool (& to make foam)
    6. serve down the ranks
    Repeat 3x
It somehow took me twice as long to finish the 3 rounds than the old men. This is one skill I don't want to lose feeling in my fingers obtaining. Poor blistered fingers.
I handed the teapot of used leaves over to the kids. Sometimes they chew on the leaves and suck he remaining sugar out. This time they decided to make two more rounds of weak tea for themselves.
It was pretty adorable.

Menu: "eSpaghett"

 I'm so full and this time its of food that I cooked. When I got home yesterday I asked who would be cooking because she would be cooking with me! The ladies rotate chores, so it was Aminata's turn, as I was hoping. She understands me a little more, gets frustrated with me faster, and deserves a little break for the extra work that I cause her. I thought I would be cooking dinner, but Aminata called me as soon as soon as I drive my shovel into the ground. Lunch it is! I was quite the spectacle. I carried my fully stocked food bucket and gas tank out to the sitting area to start in a semi-comfortable, smoke free area. I knew they were lingering to asses my slicing and dicing skills. I like to think I passed with flying colors, but they still watched me dice the entire 2 kilo sack of onions.
Thank goodness for my prep work as a server. I cooked the pile of onions and garlic with generous, Paula Dean scoops of margarine on my little gas burner. The chants of my capabilities tarted with the first onion and continued as people passed by. We shifted to their  smokey cooking hut to finish the sauce and 2 kilos of pasta over the open flame. I cooked the oodles of noodles in a cauldron, I kid you not, and a deep pot of sauce from tomato concentrate. I thought the can opener would get more praise, but they only whispered about it's clean cut, much different than the work of their dull knife. I almost wish something crazy happened but verifying was easy peasy and lunch was ready by 12:30, an hour or two earlier than usual. 
Aminata dishes out the pasta, bread, and sauce into 6 large bowls. I watched hoping it was enough to feed the 16 people of my family. Pasta is my favorite (next to pb&js) and I would probably eat it in any form right now, but it really was "pretty and nice" like everyone kept saying. I traded my spoon in or a fork and shared a bowl with tijane and my little stinker Jennabo.