Journal of a PCV Parent cont. Mauritania (Almost)
Dave and I both feel that this was the most awesome day off all 5 weeks! After a taxi, bus, charet (donkey cart), and pirogue (wooden dug out canoe) and yet another charet and we arrived on an island in the middle of the Senegal River just across the river from Zach’s former village in Mauritania. A Fête was planned and a house was rented for the day and we met many of Zach’s Mauritanian family and friends. Zach had arranged to have a goat killed, but instead we got mutton, which was very good! As we arrived on donkey cart, Samba and Aseta came out to great us. They were the couple that became Zach’s family while he was in Mauritania. Aseta fed him wonderful food. I received a hug from her that you could drown in and we were both near tears. We were taken into the salon of the barrowed house and treated as honored guests all day. There were speeches given in honor of Zach and us by Samba who clearly loves Zach as a brother. The mayor/chief of the village gave a speech welcoming us (not to be outdone by Samba). We ate traditional food and later the women played dress up with me. See previous pictures (Sue in gold wax print). You could tell that Zach left an indelible mark on the Mauritanians, as did they on Zach. I told them Mauritania would always be in Zach’s heart.
Sue (Zach's Mom)

Journal of a PCV parent cont.

On to Saint Louis:
Saint Louis as explained in the Lonely Planet: “The Senegal River flows westward towards the Atlantic Ocean, but currents and winds have pushed sand across its mouth for thousands of years, changing it’s course. Now the final section of the river runs south, separated from the ocean by a long narrow peninsula – the Langue de Barbarie. The original city of Saint Louis was the first French settlement in West Africa (and maintains much of it’s French flavor.)” Zach loves this city and in retrospect, I do too but it took a while to get that perspective. (Many of the things I first experienced in West Africa became much better in my mind as we traveled on and got more experiences and perspective. The little Pelican hotel with thatched hut rooms by the sea, I now look back at fondly. We had a charming meal at this hotel our last night and met the artist who had done the colorful, figurative murals. Some thoughts, sights and perspectives from my journal will help you see my deliema.
- Watching horses, goats and people being washed in the river along with dishes
- Huge amounts of garbage dumped along the sides of the river
- A street cleaner with a wheel barrow attempting the impossible
- The children begging (Koranic students spend a period of time on the street practicing the humble art of begging)
- American, Senegalese, French and British aide workers providing health care for the above mentioned beggars (“Tali Bay” or “Can kids” spelling probably not correct)
- A huge beautiful beach strewn with garbage
- Friendly greetings
- Beautiful women (and men)
- Helpful assistance
- French food
- Senegalese food at it’s best
- An air conditioned Patisserie ☺
- Good natured joking
- Terrific new PCV friends (Bernard, Richard and Nick)
- Warthog sandwiches MMMMM
- Great scenery

So you can see my perspective changing even while I was there!

Journal of a PVC Parent Cont.

Journal continued:
This is an entry word from word from my journal:
“West Africa, the real West Africa, not just pictures we have taken but the real sights and sounds, smells, tastes, fabric and cultural clothing. The people, the poverty, illness and harshness of life contrasted to the grace and beauty in which it is lived. For me what stands out is the women enduring it all with grace and a sisterhood that seems stronger than family ties. To be a woman in West Africa means hard work, patience, grace and an aloofness that is easily broken with a kind word, act or a sympathetic smile. They have welcomed me into the group upon occasion and it is like being held on your mother’s lap. I am no longer a Toubab (white woman) tourist, I am a woman accepted by them and included in their pride of their child or sympathies for what I am enduring with them. Like the woman helping me run to the pit latrine even though the bus driver is angrily honking his horn. Or the woman on the bus this morning whose baby was making a connection with me, or the woman whose back I supported while she sat in the middle of 5 adults and 4 young children in the bus bench seat in front of me (9 human beings in one seat!) nursing her baby. Aseta, who loves my son and fed him for a year in Mauritania. The women on the Car Rapid (Old rickety bus that is far from rapid) who knew that the three toubabs were being cheated by too high a faire and stood up for us or the young mother who feed us in Zach’s village when she barely had enough for her little family. It is these moments when Africa is no longer overwhelming. It is their acceptance that makes me feel comfortable and safe and OK to leave my son in the grace of the people of West Africa. Most of the time I am shut out of this embrace, but when I am let in, I know that I am more than a tourist or a Toubab, I am one of them…a woman.”

Empty Classrooms

Its funny how empty classrooms give moments of pause and reflection...

It’s the 12th of December and I am sitting here in a empty high school classroom waiting for the time to come to give my part of a presentation on climate change as part of the global day of action on climate change. I will be talking about what is going on at the conference and screening An Inconvenient Truth. Today’s activities have been spearheaded by the Kédougou chapter of Les Amis de la Nature (Friends of Nature). I find it exceptional that they have taken the initiative to put this on, my role in the planning has been very small even though I will do a big chuck of the talking. For me its tremendously rewarding to be able to participate in an action on climate change as I was not able to go to the conference myself.

(A side note on going to the conference, the Mauritanian that I helped find funding waited until just a couple of days before he was supposed to leave to apply for his visa. Needless to say, he did not get it. Even now I am so pissed off that he wasted his spot that I haven’t been able to talk to him. However, through other completely independent means that I had nothing to do with, another Mauritanian youth is currently participating in the conference. So at least someone is going.)

It has been a while since I have posted I know. I think in the absence of having work to do while I was being kicked out of Mauritania and then while I was going through training the second time I stopped finding my life that interesting to write about. However, after this presentation I am going to go out to my new site for real this time. (I have been out there on four separate occasions, but never for long and never in a way that I could start preparing to do work.) I am looking forward to the work that awaits me with great anticipation. Its been about 120 days since I have been able to work on any of my own projects.

One of the activities that has kept me away from my new site was the month long visit by my mom (Sue) and stepdad (Dave). I think for all of us it was a remarkable experience. My mom is a good writer so I will let her share her experiences in her own words here. (ahhem, please keep posting mom.) First and foremost I was wonderful to see family, its been over a year and a half since I have seen anyone that I knew before I joined the PC. It was also very interesting to see how my perspectives have changed in ways that I had not noticed. What I considered nice accommodations and the fact that I am totally desensitized to seeing sick and/or malnourished children were two changes that stood out. They also surprised me with what they found interesting. Some parts of the trip that I worried would be the most difficult for them they really enjoyed. Although, other parts of the trip that I worried would be the most difficult for them they really hated. All in all, they survived (and enjoyed) my west African tour remarkably well. Perhaps the best testimony to their achievement is that every single PCV that met them or heard about them and our travel plans either said, “Are they/you crazy???” or “Your parents are amazing, mine could never do that!” Who says you can’t go off having wild African adventures for the first (and last I think) time at age 60? Well done Mom and Dave. I had a wonderful time with you here and I didn’t quite know what to do for the first few days after you left, for example I couldn’t stop automatically translating everything anyone said to me into English despite who was around. ;)

(Its now the time that the presentation was supposed to start and neither the organizers, the speakers, nor the participants are here. Sometimes I wonder why African nations are having difficulty catching up with the level of economic wealth of the rest of the world, sometimes I don’t.)

Speaking of travel, now that I actually live in a tourist destination and since my job is ecotourism I am putting out the call to everyone again that if you want to come to west Africa I will be your personal tour guide. When my folks came a round trip ticket cost about ~$1,600 USD and they spent about ~$200 per day which covered all three of us. They could have spent less but they could have spent more too. If you happen to find a cheap ticket, think about it. I’d love to host you.

Update: over 300 people ended up showing up for the presentation and it was a wild success. 

What is happening at Copenhagen

Today is the first day of the international climate change talks in Copenhagen, to know what that means, I recommend reading this short four page brief that does an excellent job explaining what is going to be negotiated: http://www.iied.org/pubs/pdfs/17074IIED.pdf

Also if you want to follow the negotiations a little bit, try these sites:
youthclimate.org
itsgettinghotinhere.org
grist.org

Pay attention the two weeks, this is important for us all.

Journal of a PVC Parent Cont.

A little note on Zach's training family. Neene (Mom) runs a tight ship with love and an energy that boggles my mind! This time we were traveling south to the Palmarin to an Eco Resort called the Lodge des collines de Niassan. This was a wonderful break. Three days of great French food, hikes, birds, hyenas, kayaking with an oyster and fresh fish lunch, but mostly getting to know Zach as the young man he has become. On our kayak trip we were able to participate in a mangrove restoration project by planting seeds we had picked up along the way.

Journal of a PCV parent cont.

Journal continues:
Arrived in Sangalkam, Zach’s training village and family. We had practiced the Pulaar greeting. This is a rough translation: After checking on the health of all relatives, and asking if you are in your skin, the message was, “We are all the same inside, we all live in and share this world, we all die (and by the way, Zach is a good boy!”) We were served the Senegalese National Dish, Cheboygan. It was delicious. Kajatu, one of Zach’s sisters, prepared the best I had. She made it because she knew if she did, Zach would stay longer! Aliou and Zach have a special relationship and Aliou’s tears could be heard through the whole village when we left☹. Waking up in our tents in the courtyard was a great intro to West African noises. We had fallen asleep under Orion’s Belt and woke to Roosters, donkeys, prayer call, increasing amounts of birds, goats and dogs. It is a wonderful cacophony! Bye for now. Sue and Dave