Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Dafa tang. Il fait chaud. It’s bloody hot.
So finally I start to get a grip on French. I need to learn a lottttttt (most of it) of vocabulary and as every evaluation at the training center told me, I need to study those irregular verbs. One day…. So, anyways, I was just starting to pass as a sort of, kind of French speaker. Well well well, enter: Louga. People do not love speaking French here. Certainly not. In Thies, one does not need to learn wolof to be an effective volunteer. In Louga, yeeeeeeea. To buy just about anything, I need to speak Wolof. So I started Wolof tutoring yesterday. I have another class in an hour. Another thing to note: a lot of people here do not even speak French. Which means they did not go to much school, if any. Wolof is supposedly so much easier than French so that is good…because Francais is not easy.
So…Louga. I live with twenty-five people and about fifteen goats. Wolof is the language of the house…a few speak French…but don’t like to, really. My host mother and I get by on gestures. I should mention there are 3 wives here and no husband. He passed away. The noises outside of my window are ones of many clinking pans, sheep of all ages (babies are higher-pitched sounding) and crying babies. Oh, the crying babies. Oh the sheep! There is like 15 children under the age of 15 here. They are quite adorable, though I know hardly any of their names. Oh yea, and me? I am Ndaye Touti Sekk. “Ndaye Touti, Ndaye Touti”. Already I am a celebrity in town. I will work my way up to Demba’s status soon. I mean, we are the only white people in this city of about two hundred thousand people. “team toubab!”
Demba is Jeremiah, the other Peace Corps volunteer in Louga. He has been here for 6 months as an urban agriculture volunteer. Fortunately we get along mighty well. And the 3rd musketeer of Team Louga hails from a village about 45 minutes west, Adrian AKA Adama.
I lucked the heck out with these guys being my neighbors. Not all Peace Corps volunteers are totally sweet, like I dreamingly envisioned. Nonetheless, these guys are my “paht-nahs”. We are having a family Thanksgiving together tomorrow. And, as you should know, Thanksgiving Eve is the second biggest bar night of the year in America, so of course we are hitting up the town discotheque “club millionaire” for some late night dancing tonight. Jeremiah and I did all of the Thanksgiving shopping today because a night in Senegal does not end until 5 am at the earliest. And the market pickings are best at 9 am. So here is what we will “mange”(eat): fried chicken (And honey mustard dipping sauce!…this was key for the guys), mac and cheese, garlic mashed potatoes, cheesy garlic bread, salad with tomato and green pepper, and a box of wine each. These aren’t franzia sized boxes. Yea turkey is just too expensive and yea, you buy them alive, too. J and I saw two turkeys tied together today on the side of the road and agreed that was sweet to SEE two turkeys the day BEFORE thanksgiving..because turkeys are rare here. You know what else you don’t eat in Louga? Pork. I’m rolling deep in Muslims here. Deeeeep.
I would also like to note there is fruit soaking in a party punch for tonight. We decided to be idealists for our Thanksgiving fete. Big ballers or “petron”, if you will.
Apparantly this club is just like on you find in New Orleans, says Adrian, so I am quite excited. And one fact of Senegalese bars is I am guaranteed an approximate 3:10 ratio of women : men. Sweet!!!!!!!!!!!! So what I say is, “am nah jeker”—I have a husband. No problem, I really do enjoy Senegalese dancing, so should be great. And how much did I luck out that team Louga enjoys dancing? I did luck out.
A note on dancing here. Its great!!!!!!!!!!!! It is really fun. Our stage (the people I trained with in thies) were big on the dancing. And about 4 of the guy volunteers told me on different occasions that they never loved dancing until they came to Senegal, where they feel so free! So freeeeeeeeeeeeee….. to dance! Like seriously though. So I thought that was cute. Yea, they do look ridiculous, but im just happy they are letting go of inhibitions. ☺
So: about Louga. Right, I am here to work, not celebrate thanksgiving every day! But yea, it is going well. Why not, ya know? I am in a city, alhumdilliyah. (thanks be to god).
So, I have been trying to meet people, which really takes no effort because everyone notices you. Everyone. Did I mention I am the only white woman in Louga? Cool. I said to jeremiah yesterday, “I do not feel sorry for minorities in America” and maaaan I stick by that. People are not used to diversity here. And they test you. They are not kind, but supposedly it happens to everyone here and it is all in good nature. So I am waiting for my wolof to improve before I do a lot of heavy networking. However, I have some good people to start chatting with about ideas of work.
The first 3 months are for community integration so I have time. A young man already approached me about coming to English club meetings and talking with them/and or supervising at the centre culturelle. And as more people began to ask about me teaching them English, and the same thing happening to J, we decided yesterday we would like to start an English club in town together for the young folk. He does not speak any French and I essentially do not speak any wolof, so together we are a dynamite team.
My counterparts are slow to getting back to my texts and calls and taking me around to meeting people at certain institutions, but I am going to roll Senegalese style and take my time. I really have no agenda here…ever. I am happy so long as a read some of the Peace Corps business material they gave us, Speak/study some wolof and French, and walk around the city a little bit. And let’s see …today at lunch, which was fish balls, rich and vegetables( I told myself I was eating meatballs and for the one bite I actually believed it—it was great)…so at lunch I actually got some wolof correct when an older man at the bowl said some things to me. And I am going for tea at my tutor’s house today to practice more.
I lucked out to live right down the street from a great man, Pap Samb. He has been a teacher here for twenty-five plus years and has tutored countless Peace Corps volunteers. He is blind so he writes words out in the sand and is just so awesome, I love it. He is one of those natural teacher types, who just likes to see you learn. We meet three times a week for an hour each time. Two sessions a week for wolof, one for French. He thinks I do not need more French, but he is fooling himself. I want to be fluent in French by the time I leave, as well as Wolof.
Soo, Louga is hot. It is sandy. It is a big city by Senegalese standards and there are two paved roads. Walking in dirty sand everywhere is a lot more work than roads. “when you get on the road, you are like ‘man, im flying!’”, said Adrian.
Soooo… I can buy just about everything I need here, too. I get my bananas, my spaghetti sandwiches ( oooo yeaaaa), my café touba, and my biskrems. What else could a girl need? Well….FIXED PRICES. They need to work on that here. Not only do I always feel like im getting screwed, but also its better for the economy. Taxes and stuff, right?
So more of those surreal moments I wondered about have come along. Just one or two, when I was like well, this is mighty surreal. I don’t really miss America or take myself to that mindset where I picture certain things there for more than 10 seconds because it is just too bizarre. So it is more surreal now because I am finally not in Thies, where I saw loads of Americans every day and had a schedule set for me. I am in a city where I am going to be working for two years, doing whatever the hell I feel like( keeping the people here in mind, naturally). And im not gonna be speaking English, yo. Oh no. It is a weird feeling. J has a sweet place and has this whole roof to himself. And I was looking off it the other day, looking at good ol Senegal lit up by a western union sign and I was like “soo…hmmm…ok. I live here. Right.” I have not lived anywhere for two years straight since high school. And now its in Louga. Senegal. West Africa. Dave asked me online yesterday if I feel like I am in Africa. The answer is Yes. Yes, Yes, Yes.
Come visit me if you dare.
So…Louga. I live with twenty-five people and about fifteen goats. Wolof is the language of the house…a few speak French…but don’t like to, really. My host mother and I get by on gestures. I should mention there are 3 wives here and no husband. He passed away. The noises outside of my window are ones of many clinking pans, sheep of all ages (babies are higher-pitched sounding) and crying babies. Oh, the crying babies. Oh the sheep! There is like 15 children under the age of 15 here. They are quite adorable, though I know hardly any of their names. Oh yea, and me? I am Ndaye Touti Sekk. “Ndaye Touti, Ndaye Touti”. Already I am a celebrity in town. I will work my way up to Demba’s status soon. I mean, we are the only white people in this city of about two hundred thousand people. “team toubab!”
Demba is Jeremiah, the other Peace Corps volunteer in Louga. He has been here for 6 months as an urban agriculture volunteer. Fortunately we get along mighty well. And the 3rd musketeer of Team Louga hails from a village about 45 minutes west, Adrian AKA Adama.
I lucked the heck out with these guys being my neighbors. Not all Peace Corps volunteers are totally sweet, like I dreamingly envisioned. Nonetheless, these guys are my “paht-nahs”. We are having a family Thanksgiving together tomorrow. And, as you should know, Thanksgiving Eve is the second biggest bar night of the year in America, so of course we are hitting up the town discotheque “club millionaire” for some late night dancing tonight. Jeremiah and I did all of the Thanksgiving shopping today because a night in Senegal does not end until 5 am at the earliest. And the market pickings are best at 9 am. So here is what we will “mange”(eat): fried chicken (And honey mustard dipping sauce!…this was key for the guys), mac and cheese, garlic mashed potatoes, cheesy garlic bread, salad with tomato and green pepper, and a box of wine each. These aren’t franzia sized boxes. Yea turkey is just too expensive and yea, you buy them alive, too. J and I saw two turkeys tied together today on the side of the road and agreed that was sweet to SEE two turkeys the day BEFORE thanksgiving..because turkeys are rare here. You know what else you don’t eat in Louga? Pork. I’m rolling deep in Muslims here. Deeeeep.
I would also like to note there is fruit soaking in a party punch for tonight. We decided to be idealists for our Thanksgiving fete. Big ballers or “petron”, if you will.
Apparantly this club is just like on you find in New Orleans, says Adrian, so I am quite excited. And one fact of Senegalese bars is I am guaranteed an approximate 3:10 ratio of women : men. Sweet!!!!!!!!!!!! So what I say is, “am nah jeker”—I have a husband. No problem, I really do enjoy Senegalese dancing, so should be great. And how much did I luck out that team Louga enjoys dancing? I did luck out.
A note on dancing here. Its great!!!!!!!!!!!! It is really fun. Our stage (the people I trained with in thies) were big on the dancing. And about 4 of the guy volunteers told me on different occasions that they never loved dancing until they came to Senegal, where they feel so free! So freeeeeeeeeeeeee….. to dance! Like seriously though. So I thought that was cute. Yea, they do look ridiculous, but im just happy they are letting go of inhibitions. ☺
So: about Louga. Right, I am here to work, not celebrate thanksgiving every day! But yea, it is going well. Why not, ya know? I am in a city, alhumdilliyah. (thanks be to god).
So, I have been trying to meet people, which really takes no effort because everyone notices you. Everyone. Did I mention I am the only white woman in Louga? Cool. I said to jeremiah yesterday, “I do not feel sorry for minorities in America” and maaaan I stick by that. People are not used to diversity here. And they test you. They are not kind, but supposedly it happens to everyone here and it is all in good nature. So I am waiting for my wolof to improve before I do a lot of heavy networking. However, I have some good people to start chatting with about ideas of work.
The first 3 months are for community integration so I have time. A young man already approached me about coming to English club meetings and talking with them/and or supervising at the centre culturelle. And as more people began to ask about me teaching them English, and the same thing happening to J, we decided yesterday we would like to start an English club in town together for the young folk. He does not speak any French and I essentially do not speak any wolof, so together we are a dynamite team.
My counterparts are slow to getting back to my texts and calls and taking me around to meeting people at certain institutions, but I am going to roll Senegalese style and take my time. I really have no agenda here…ever. I am happy so long as a read some of the Peace Corps business material they gave us, Speak/study some wolof and French, and walk around the city a little bit. And let’s see …today at lunch, which was fish balls, rich and vegetables( I told myself I was eating meatballs and for the one bite I actually believed it—it was great)…so at lunch I actually got some wolof correct when an older man at the bowl said some things to me. And I am going for tea at my tutor’s house today to practice more.
I lucked out to live right down the street from a great man, Pap Samb. He has been a teacher here for twenty-five plus years and has tutored countless Peace Corps volunteers. He is blind so he writes words out in the sand and is just so awesome, I love it. He is one of those natural teacher types, who just likes to see you learn. We meet three times a week for an hour each time. Two sessions a week for wolof, one for French. He thinks I do not need more French, but he is fooling himself. I want to be fluent in French by the time I leave, as well as Wolof.
Soo, Louga is hot. It is sandy. It is a big city by Senegalese standards and there are two paved roads. Walking in dirty sand everywhere is a lot more work than roads. “when you get on the road, you are like ‘man, im flying!’”, said Adrian.
Soooo… I can buy just about everything I need here, too. I get my bananas, my spaghetti sandwiches ( oooo yeaaaa), my café touba, and my biskrems. What else could a girl need? Well….FIXED PRICES. They need to work on that here. Not only do I always feel like im getting screwed, but also its better for the economy. Taxes and stuff, right?
So more of those surreal moments I wondered about have come along. Just one or two, when I was like well, this is mighty surreal. I don’t really miss America or take myself to that mindset where I picture certain things there for more than 10 seconds because it is just too bizarre. So it is more surreal now because I am finally not in Thies, where I saw loads of Americans every day and had a schedule set for me. I am in a city where I am going to be working for two years, doing whatever the hell I feel like( keeping the people here in mind, naturally). And im not gonna be speaking English, yo. Oh no. It is a weird feeling. J has a sweet place and has this whole roof to himself. And I was looking off it the other day, looking at good ol Senegal lit up by a western union sign and I was like “soo…hmmm…ok. I live here. Right.” I have not lived anywhere for two years straight since high school. And now its in Louga. Senegal. West Africa. Dave asked me online yesterday if I feel like I am in Africa. The answer is Yes. Yes, Yes, Yes.
Come visit me if you dare.
Day Two at Home
Hello world—
Hello from my new home for the next two years. Louga. I am staying with a current volunteer here. He has a ridiculous set-up. He lives in a different house rfom his family. His host dad owns this other house and the peace corps paid him to fix up one of the rooms. So he has a sweet regular room with a bathroom with a toilet and a shower. Its ridiculous. And the rest of the house is empty, dirt floors. But he has an entire roof to himself too. A huge roof. He has a hammock up there, a garden, chairs. Its pretty sick. So I will be here when I need a break from a fam setting. Tomorrow I will move into the house with my family The country director is coming up to Louga to take me around town and settle me in. The guys (jeremiah, who im staying with, and our closest nieghbor Adrian—who are both in the room with me right now) will join me for a Louga experience. I think we’ll go out to breakfast with the director.
Anywayssss this is the longest break ive had since ive been here—two days. And yesterday was a bit ridiculous. We were supposed to leave thies at 8 but it was more like 11 because drivers here are ridiculous. Anddddd yea well I don’t even know how to explain what else happened because without context it might be hard to get. Anyyyyyways→well I am going to miss my other volunteer friends, the ones who are dispersed all over the country now. But I will see some this Friday. Hahah it was ridiculous saying goodbye to some because I wont see them until February for In Service training. And others…it was like..see you Friday in Dakar! I am playing on the Dakar region softball league. I believe we meet a few times a month and play other teams, like ex-pats and other Senegalese teams and really just grill and drink some beers. I am excited.
This is a weird time!!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess that is all I can really say. Just starting tomorrow I will start my peace corps experience, really. I mean obviously I have had some of it, but yea—I am at my site now.
The city of Louga seems
Cool. ??
More later.
Hello from my new home for the next two years. Louga. I am staying with a current volunteer here. He has a ridiculous set-up. He lives in a different house rfom his family. His host dad owns this other house and the peace corps paid him to fix up one of the rooms. So he has a sweet regular room with a bathroom with a toilet and a shower. Its ridiculous. And the rest of the house is empty, dirt floors. But he has an entire roof to himself too. A huge roof. He has a hammock up there, a garden, chairs. Its pretty sick. So I will be here when I need a break from a fam setting. Tomorrow I will move into the house with my family The country director is coming up to Louga to take me around town and settle me in. The guys (jeremiah, who im staying with, and our closest nieghbor Adrian—who are both in the room with me right now) will join me for a Louga experience. I think we’ll go out to breakfast with the director.
Anywayssss this is the longest break ive had since ive been here—two days. And yesterday was a bit ridiculous. We were supposed to leave thies at 8 but it was more like 11 because drivers here are ridiculous. Anddddd yea well I don’t even know how to explain what else happened because without context it might be hard to get. Anyyyyyways→well I am going to miss my other volunteer friends, the ones who are dispersed all over the country now. But I will see some this Friday. Hahah it was ridiculous saying goodbye to some because I wont see them until February for In Service training. And others…it was like..see you Friday in Dakar! I am playing on the Dakar region softball league. I believe we meet a few times a month and play other teams, like ex-pats and other Senegalese teams and really just grill and drink some beers. I am excited.
This is a weird time!!!!!!!!!!!!! I guess that is all I can really say. Just starting tomorrow I will start my peace corps experience, really. I mean obviously I have had some of it, but yea—I am at my site now.
The city of Louga seems
Cool. ??
More later.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
dude, we have two years. you can do whatever you want.
Well Well Well
Let me explain to you the modern-day Claire. She does not wear makeup, she sees a mirror once a day at best, toilet paper is optional, beat up ballet flats are dressy just because they are gold, she wore embarrassingly dirty khakis on one of the most important days of training, hair is never done, she sniffs her clothes before dressing, she drinks crappy beer, feels rich when she eats eggs on bread, dodges donkeys, horses, begging kids, and women with the most bizarre things on their heads whilst on her bike…and she drinks a lot of tea. And next she is moving to some city called Louga with no fucking clue of what to do once she gets there.
Today is November 6, 2007. What does this mean? It means I have two days left of training here in Thies. It is pretty exciting because its been a very long road coming. We’re on the 8th week and it feels like 15th, no joke. Anyways, it’s really exciting. Did I mention that?
In the last 8 weeks I have been doing a lot of shit--- left my life in Akron, moved to Africa with 43 other people and attended training for 10 hours a day 5 days a week and half a day every Saturday. 5 have dropped out. We are termed the “E.T. Stage”, which stands for early termination group of trainees. More will leave, surely. Liam and I dub them “burnt toast”. Those who left are missed, but fade further from reality each passing day.
I have managed to get to the capital city for two weekends and the beach for another. I can get by with my French now and the there is hardly a stench in the air.
Looking back to the beginning…
After 3 days of utter confusion, locked up in a training center in a place I only thought was Africa, I stayed with a volunteer for 4 days of pretty much full on misery 3 days after arriving. It was painfully hot with no escape(guessing about 118 degrees), it was Ramadan, I had a fever, infrequent electricity,I had over 90 mosquito bites, I did not like the small town I was in and worst of all- flies were sucking on all of my open wounds all over my legs. They do not let go with a kick of the leg, oh no, they suck and sometimes there are multiple mosquitoes on multiple wounds on various limbs. It was distressing, to say the least.
I have been voted most likely to get malaria-the bugs love me. My gets hardly resemble their days former. Cuts, scars, bites of all nature, scabs from unknown sources. I really thought being a waitress at winking lizard sounded like bliss those nights Lauren and I lied awake unable to sleep because we were soaking in sweat. You think I am kidding? I was serious. I was fighting tears. That seems like years ago. It is certainly a past mindset. Culture shock, if you will.
I remember when I first got to the training center and went into the bathrooms I was like ewwwww. Now these bathrooms are equivalent to 4 star hotels for the fact that there are toilets, toilet paper, sinks and showers! As I just wrote that last sentence I was like holy crap “there are all of these things here!!! HOW NEAT!,” because I have none of those at home. How luxurious.
This Friday is the whole big deal—the official swearing in ceremony at the US Embassy. I think its there. It is in Dakar for sure. Anyways we do a skit in all of the local languages that is on national tv. My friend Golbert, a Senegalese, told me last night he was going to be watching. The fact that he knows is frightening. Apparantly volunteers are recognized later.
I have made some good friends but am told by some they all want to date me. I am going to choose to not believe that everyone who is my friend wants something else out of the deal, whether its money or a relationship or a visa. The people are great here.
There are about 15 people living in my house in Louga, I am told. None of the adults speak French. Hmmm…. Good thing I have had like 4 classes of Wolof. “this is not a real language!” chris said today in class, which was my exact thought. In a really sarcastic way because of course it is a language but it bears no resemblance to anything I know.
I will learn it. It takes a lot of work to achieve what you actually want. Je suis fatiguee
I met my counterparts that I will be most likely working with for the next two years. My counterpart is a man and supervisor is a woman. The counterpart is who I actually work with on a daily basis if I so choose. They really have no bearing on what I do and am not obligated to do anything with them, but they are a good resource and potentially great partners. I have read a bit about his work and spoken with him when they both came for a few days to do a counterpart workshop. He does a lot of cool stuff particularly focused of youth and women. A lot of IT stuff- he has a cyber café. And I am most interested in working with kids. Education is key- knowledge is power, yo.
There are a butt load of kids at my house in Louga, so I guess I will see if I really do like being around kids. I never really have been before.
Anyways----- more news to come. I will have internet at home in Louga so you will here a lot more then. Til next time.
Let me explain to you the modern-day Claire. She does not wear makeup, she sees a mirror once a day at best, toilet paper is optional, beat up ballet flats are dressy just because they are gold, she wore embarrassingly dirty khakis on one of the most important days of training, hair is never done, she sniffs her clothes before dressing, she drinks crappy beer, feels rich when she eats eggs on bread, dodges donkeys, horses, begging kids, and women with the most bizarre things on their heads whilst on her bike…and she drinks a lot of tea. And next she is moving to some city called Louga with no fucking clue of what to do once she gets there.
Today is November 6, 2007. What does this mean? It means I have two days left of training here in Thies. It is pretty exciting because its been a very long road coming. We’re on the 8th week and it feels like 15th, no joke. Anyways, it’s really exciting. Did I mention that?
In the last 8 weeks I have been doing a lot of shit--- left my life in Akron, moved to Africa with 43 other people and attended training for 10 hours a day 5 days a week and half a day every Saturday. 5 have dropped out. We are termed the “E.T. Stage”, which stands for early termination group of trainees. More will leave, surely. Liam and I dub them “burnt toast”. Those who left are missed, but fade further from reality each passing day.
I have managed to get to the capital city for two weekends and the beach for another. I can get by with my French now and the there is hardly a stench in the air.
Looking back to the beginning…
After 3 days of utter confusion, locked up in a training center in a place I only thought was Africa, I stayed with a volunteer for 4 days of pretty much full on misery 3 days after arriving. It was painfully hot with no escape(guessing about 118 degrees), it was Ramadan, I had a fever, infrequent electricity,I had over 90 mosquito bites, I did not like the small town I was in and worst of all- flies were sucking on all of my open wounds all over my legs. They do not let go with a kick of the leg, oh no, they suck and sometimes there are multiple mosquitoes on multiple wounds on various limbs. It was distressing, to say the least.
I have been voted most likely to get malaria-the bugs love me. My gets hardly resemble their days former. Cuts, scars, bites of all nature, scabs from unknown sources. I really thought being a waitress at winking lizard sounded like bliss those nights Lauren and I lied awake unable to sleep because we were soaking in sweat. You think I am kidding? I was serious. I was fighting tears. That seems like years ago. It is certainly a past mindset. Culture shock, if you will.
I remember when I first got to the training center and went into the bathrooms I was like ewwwww. Now these bathrooms are equivalent to 4 star hotels for the fact that there are toilets, toilet paper, sinks and showers! As I just wrote that last sentence I was like holy crap “there are all of these things here!!! HOW NEAT!,” because I have none of those at home. How luxurious.
This Friday is the whole big deal—the official swearing in ceremony at the US Embassy. I think its there. It is in Dakar for sure. Anyways we do a skit in all of the local languages that is on national tv. My friend Golbert, a Senegalese, told me last night he was going to be watching. The fact that he knows is frightening. Apparantly volunteers are recognized later.
I have made some good friends but am told by some they all want to date me. I am going to choose to not believe that everyone who is my friend wants something else out of the deal, whether its money or a relationship or a visa. The people are great here.
There are about 15 people living in my house in Louga, I am told. None of the adults speak French. Hmmm…. Good thing I have had like 4 classes of Wolof. “this is not a real language!” chris said today in class, which was my exact thought. In a really sarcastic way because of course it is a language but it bears no resemblance to anything I know.
I will learn it. It takes a lot of work to achieve what you actually want. Je suis fatiguee
I met my counterparts that I will be most likely working with for the next two years. My counterpart is a man and supervisor is a woman. The counterpart is who I actually work with on a daily basis if I so choose. They really have no bearing on what I do and am not obligated to do anything with them, but they are a good resource and potentially great partners. I have read a bit about his work and spoken with him when they both came for a few days to do a counterpart workshop. He does a lot of cool stuff particularly focused of youth and women. A lot of IT stuff- he has a cyber café. And I am most interested in working with kids. Education is key- knowledge is power, yo.
There are a butt load of kids at my house in Louga, so I guess I will see if I really do like being around kids. I never really have been before.
Anyways----- more news to come. I will have internet at home in Louga so you will here a lot more then. Til next time.
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