Finally, a post!

I have to apologize for not writing in so long. As tends to happen every now and then, time just slips by. Since I don’t remember where I left off in the story of my life over here, I’ll start with a resume of what’s happened before starting the fall season.

- Bigger waterfalls

- Fourth of July party in Kedougou

- Roofs on the huts in the campement

- Lots of carpentry

- The RAINY season

- World maps

- Feelin good and lookin forward

What am I doing now (in brief)?

- Starting a business

- Prepping to raise $$$

- English camps

- Close of service conference

Now for details:

Bigger Waterfalls:

The tourist attraction for my village is a waterfall. The attraction for Dindefello is another bigger waterfall. However, both of these pale in comparison to the waterfall at Ingli and no one goes there except for PCVs. This is because it is only accessible by foot or bike and we are pretty much the only foreigners who know about it and are willing to take a 120km trip to get out there and back. Boy was I glad I did. I’ll let pictures speak of it’s grandeur.

Fourth of July party:

Every year the Kedougou region hosts a fourth of July party for all of the PC volunteers in Senegal. This year, over half showed up, around 80 people. It was honestly one of the best if not, the best Fourth of July I have had. Events included, corn hole, horse shoes, can jam, water balloons (my doing), and super soakers (my doing). Food included the staple sides of the 4th and PIG! Quite a delicious rarity in Senegal. I won’t be here for next year’s 4th, but if you are looking for a good way to celebrate America’s independence next year, you should come to Senegal to get it.

Roofs on the Campement:

As you all know, my main project is building an ecotourism lodge. We received about $5,000 USD in January and have now converted most of that into three huts and a bathroom for tourists. At the time that I left to go to America, the walls were up, the rains were coming, but there were still no roofs. I am happy to say that they are all on now. Having roofs on the huts marks a real the achievement of being close to being done with this phase of the project, eight months and much sweat after starting. It is a great feeling to be able to look at them and think “I made that happen” (with funding from the US government and the physical contributions of many people from the village) and know that it will soon be providing a source of formal income for 10 individuals and financially support the village’s own development efforts to the tune of 15% of it’s profits. It’s hard to imagine accomplishing things that are much more rewarding than that in my life.

Lots of carpentry:

Without me knowing my counterparts commissioned the doors and windows of the campement to be made out of African Mahogany. Dough! But very beautiful. Except, the carpenters used nails that were twice as long as they should have been so they all have ugly nails bent over on the back sides. I had a revelation recently that this campement was never going to be as nice as I had envisioned it because I was not MY campement, a realization that was precipitated by seeing the patterns on the sheets that my counterparts bought, but the massacre of the beauty of African Mahogany was one thing that I could not let stand. So I have many days over the course of the last few weeks pulling out all of the nails and then replacing them with screws. Seems like a pretty simple operation, but the wood is incredibly dense and the screws are incredibly weak. In order to get them in I had to take out the existing nails, pound in slight larger nails just to enlarge the holes, then pull those out, and put the screws in. Towards the end of the work I got my hands on a cordless drill (God Bless America) and it all went much faster. Anyway they are done now and they look much better. The other carpentry I have been doing was ripping 24 meters of wooden planks down to size for the window frames. When I was in America I picked up a saw sharpening file knowing that I was going to be doing this but neglected to buy saw set pliers (which push the teeth of the saw out alternating directions so the area that it cuts is wider than the blade of the saw, keeping it from binding up). So every time the saw bound up in the wood, I cursed myself for not having the foresight to get the set pliers (now in the mail) here sooner. Once it is here, I am going to sharpen and set every single saw I see because nearly every hand saw in Senegal is dull.

Ok, I’m taking a break and posting this now, but I will finish the details soon.

Journal of a PCV Parent Cont.

Essentials for hut living
Warthogs
Rehabilitated Panther
Obsidian Roller National Bird
Baboon
Mongoose
Park map
On the banks of the Gambia
Me and my guys!
Tambaconda was a resting place for us while Zach got organized and provisioned for his installation in his village. (See provisions picture: Bucket with lid to store food, a mat for the dirt floor, a latrine wash kettle, and a wash bucket with cup for bucket bath or clothes washing.) We then went on an adventure, at my request, to Nicola Koba National Park. We stayed at the Wassado, a French run tourist Campement that was flat out luxury compared to the last week and a half. We were in the park forest so it was cool and our room had fans. We showered and I put on makeup and a dress and felt like I was on a date with my two favorite guys! We ate on a porch on the edge of the Gambia River on white linens with wine and French cooking, a chilled mango mousse for dessert, the cool breeze and night sounds of baboons playing in the trees nearby. A bit of heaven! We went on a private safari the next day. The pictures will tell the story. We had a fabulous lunch midday of rice (without dirt), turkey, grapes, tomatoes and hardboiled eggs as a cold salad with vinaigrette dressing. It was the best meal in a long time and thoughtfully tooted in cooler full of ice with cold drinks as well. We fell asleep on a mat provided for us and slept off the midday heat. (Why don’t we do this here on hot days? It certainly is survival in sub Saharan Africa.) That evening after another fabulous French meal complete with the first lettuce salad we dared eat, we sat in chairs on the bank of the river and watched the silhouettes of baboon families playing in the trees across the river. This was a magical moment! Thanks again Zach for knowing when we needed a break!
Sue

Week 4 of 5 Journal of a PVC Parent

Day II Travel from Mali to Senegal (or 23 hours on an OLD bus with a crazy driver)
This trip had intrigue, bribery, violence, humor, humanity and comradary! Most of all it did not have goats tied to the top of the bus! Of the 23 hours we traveled, we had 3 2hour stops. The first stop was to wait for a second bus to make a connection, so we were stuck in a crowded parking lot with pretty disgusting latrines, which by now I could handle because it was better than the alternative! It was just HOT and dusty. We had a lunch of bananas and baguettes (by now we are getting pretty lean). It was an anxious wait because you had to be sure the bus you came on did not leave with your luggage and no one seemed to know why we were waiting. Back on board. Many hours before a lunch stop and dash to a latrine. Then the first of many passport checks started. It was a long aft of stop and go and it was getting towards evening and still no bathroom stop. Finally a stop and I saw a latrine in the distant field and some women from the bus heading towards it so I start off, telling the boys that in no way can they let the bus leave without me! The bus driver started honking his horn and wanted us back for a passport check. I looked at the woman next to me and raised my hands in a question. She grabbed my arm and we ran towards the latrine while the driver honked furiously. She handed me the bucket and she peed out back and gave me the latrine. I started to run back and again she took my arm and shook her head to say “No, don’t run” as we got back to the bus the driver honked his horn in our ears, we just got on the bus with our noses in the air as if to say “ We are women and we have the right to pee, you will just have to wait.” When we got to our seats I turned to look at her and thank her and we shared a giggle. Those kinds of moments of connection were astounding and made me feel more than OK. It is a foreign land, language and culture but we can still connect and share compassion for one another! Later another two hour stop at customs. The Nigerian Nationals were forced to pay a bribe. They were hassled the whole trip, we were not. Our Embassy is too strong in Senegal. We had started the trip at 6AM; our third stop was at 2 AM at immigration. This was a small building in a small court yard with, by far, the worst latrines of the trip (just take my word, I do not want to describe) There were three gendarmes one of whom was more official and his job was to take our passports and hand write our information on a tablet (in pencil! How official is that?) We were the third bus there and there seemed to be no hurry. It could take up to 5- 10 min per person. We were too discouraged to do the math. Finally a non Senegalese African National got tired of being treated this way and got angry with the gendarme. Suddenly we heard loud voices, a very loud slap and the crowd began to get very agitated. We moved to the back of the crowd. All I could think about were the semiautomatics the three officials had, but some people surrounded the disgruntled man and escorted him out of the courtyard until he had calmed, Whew! We finally arrived in Tambacounda at 5AM and slept until 8:30. We had much to do that day!

Campement

Back in January I posted about the main project I have been working on, building an ecotourism lodge with and for some folks from my village. In the previous post I described the motivation for the ecolodge and how it would function. I also asked for some help funding a well for the ecolodge, thanks again to everyone who donated to that. The last few months my counterparts, a team of masons, and I have been working like gangbusters trying to get as much done as possible before the rains came. Well, the rains are here and now I finally have time to post about all the work we've been doing. The photos were all taken before I left for America and the huts should have roofs by now. The picture below is a link to a web album, which I think is going to make it easier to post photos. Enjoy!

Journal of a PCV Parent Cont. Mali to Senegal I

It has been a long time since Dave and I have posted. We need to finish our travelogue.
Mali to Senegal Part I
How do I describe the return trip? It would make a great B type short film. There was drama, pathos, pain, humor, terror, and feats of endurance! I did not even document it in my journal as I was hoping I would forget it, but the experience is indelibly marked into my brain and psyche. I can say in hindsight that I am glad I experienced it as I now have a measure to which I will always compare bad experiences. As in, “You think this is bad? You should have been on the return trip to Senegal from Mali!” Words do not do this justice, but there are no pictures as I was too busy ”making it through”! I will say that, again, while so many experiences were out of our control, what really got me through was Zach’s concern and support as well as Dave’s. When I finally lost it towards the end of the ordeal, everyone treated it as normal, including the Senegalese! OK here goes…
Phase 1 Bandiagara cliffs to Bomako (By the way, if any of you are into Jimmy Buffett, His latest CD is titled Hotel Buffett, The hotel is in Bomako and so was he 6 months before us. I doubt very much that he had our travel experiences! This was an over night ride. Zach had gotten tickets ahead of time, but when we got there the bus was full! (Duped again!) Our choice was wait for a day or ride in a bus that had 70-100 goats tied on top with their feet tied in rice bags. We thought , “Well OK they are not in the bus so this should be alright.” Overnight ride. Slept for the first two hours then woke up cold (Yes cold in Mali, Huh!) Slowly it dawned on us, there were small vent windows along the top of the bus windows and they were open. A fact we were thankful for when we got on the bus and it was 101 degrees. Now however, we were covered with goat pee spray and uncomfortably cold, while the bus driver played the Nom Song (A Griot storytelling song) over and over. Now it is morning, then midmorning and the temp is soaring and we are covered in goat pee and smelling, hungry and desperately needing to pee ourselves. Finally out side of Bomako with the city in sight the driver stops to let the goats off and I stand up on the bus and cry in front of everyone (Not a very Muslim thing to do!) When we got to our hotel, I just stood in the shower with my clothes on and watched the cockroaches in the corner! While this sounds rather desperate, all it took was a new hotel room, three showers and a cold Fanta at the Campenaird (A nice Lebanese restaurant) to make me feel better. Then there was day two……
Sue (Zach's Mom)

How much longer?

"How much longer will you be over there?" was a question I heard a lot while I was home. The answer is, as long as it takes to finish building (constructing, management training, and marketing) the tourist ecolodge I am helping the people in my village to create. On paper I have just signed a six month extension with an end date of February 17th 2011. In reality, I am not bound to that date, but I needed to set it so I could continue to defer my loans. Will I be home sooner? I hope so, but not likely. The work I am doing now is not my life's work, but it is something I have started and I can't leave the work unfinished just because my arbitrary two years of service are up. I made a commitment to my counterparts to see the job through. Additionally, PC Senegal is now working on developing an ecotourism label and certification scheme which is an idea I had proposed months ago. Developing that is something I am passionate about and would be really good experience. "So, how much longer?" longer than tomorrow, less than a year, ask me later.

AND COME VISIT!

America

I couldn't sleep the whole week before I left Senegal to go to America. I was so excited that my father cautioned me that "America is not magic, it's just the same as it always was." To which I replied, "Exactly, it is always magic." My belief was reinforced when I stepped off the plane and found that everyone around me was speaking English. It was weird, and magical. In fact, the whole three weeks I was home were filled with shocking experiences of seeing my native country with fresh eyes. Here are a few observations from my witnessing.
- We are generally ignorant of other cultures. This observation happened even before I arrived in America. Once my Delta flight was off the ground the first thing the stewards (esses) did was serve us ham sandwiches. (Muslims, who made up probably 80% of the DL216 population, do not eat pork products, whoops.) I had a good laugh and delicious sandwich at this. God Bless America.
- America is green. I had this observation while sitting on my back deck. In much of America, if we don't cut down the trees, shrubs, and grass they will over grow our homes. The environment in Senegal is better, but in Mauritania, if they do nothing (or even if they do something) their homes will covered with sand. God Bless America.
- Large grocery stores. I walked through Wegmans (a chain grocery store somewhere in between Whole Foods and Quality Markets (R.I.P.)) and bought five of everything, literally shoveling goods off the shelves. The only luggage I returned to Senegal with was full of food. God Bless America.
- Americans are wonderfully and excessively inventive. Keystone Light now gives away plastic bottle necks that you can pop onto the top of a can to beer to make it look like a bottle of beer. Who ever said Keystone Light wasn't classy? Too bad they have to give them away because no one in their right mind would buy them (I have two). God Bless America.
- We Americans are living the good life. I avoided saying this while I was home and I am hesitant to say it now because it sounds cliche, makes me sound holier-than-thou, and no one having a bad day likes to hear it, but the fact is, it's true. There is so much that we take for granted in America (for example, that drinking water comes out of the ground cool, not piping hot (and even though it is already cool we have the means to cool it further, just cause)) that at times it was difficult for me to hear anyone complain about anything. At the same time, as I have said when describing people's attitudes over here, life is relative. If your basic requirements for survival are met, when you get up in the morning in a place you are used to you tend to think "Ok, what's for breakfast?, what am I going to do this morning?, I wonder if Joe/Mamadou is feeling better." not "Wow! I own my own car! My house is made of beautiful wood! Grass is growing on my lawn!" or "Wow! I own my own donkey! My house has an excellent thatched roof! There is enough manure in my sandy yard to grow corn when the rains come!" If you have enough to eat, a decent shelter, clothes, and some sort of work to do, your day to day emotions are probably not so different from a billionaire. A few decades from now the newest generation of Americans will look back at the America my generation grew up with and wonder how we could have survived such a backwards existence, where we did not even have the internet, just as my generation looked back at a time not so long ago where household electricity did not exist. Prosperity's affect on an individual's enjoyment of life is not a direct correlation, other wise we would be just be high all the time. We ought to turn down the dial of need since it's not getting us anywhere and in its place we ought to appreciate the grass covering the topsoil covering the rest of the earth that we stand on. God Bless America.
- Transportation. At no time while I was in America did I have to ride in a make shift seat in the trunk of a station wagon that was 20 years old. God Bless America.
- Being in your own culture. Zero is the number of times I was called Toubab (white person) by little kids while I was in America. I heard it 10 times just on the taxi ride out of the airport when I returned to Senegal. Similar to that, I was describing the Senegalese habit of hissing at people to get their attention to some American friends and they responded that they thought it seemed pretty offensive, I agree. God Bless America.
- America is magic. As if all this was not enough, I spent the last night at home, standing on my back deck watching fireflies light up the woods. America is magic. God Bless America.