I like being dehydrated because then I don’t sweat*

It has rained! We had one good storm a couple days ago, followed by a morning of drizzle, and a couple of small rains. From what I’ve been told “I ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Other random updates to this roller coaster of a week: My shade structre can now provide actual shade. I just scared a baby goat that didn’t realize I was sitting here, and my fence might be done. I’m hoping not because animals can still come in and eat my plants. 

That’s all beside the point, I want to talk about the last 2 days. As I’ve made a habit of doing, I showed up at my host dad’s work at about mid morning. He works at the health post every morning and likes when I come so that I can do the ticket, this requires me to write down everyones names and take their money. It’s fun to write everyone’s name because I have no idea how to spell them so everyone just winds up giggling the whole time. 

After sitting there for a little bit he informs me that the Peace Corps woman from Saraya is coming today and we are going to go with them to a nearby village. The following things were wrong with that statement: There is no Peace Corps woman in Saraya (there is one who volunteers for an NGO), and only I went along (his boss said he needed to do work). And so, without really knowing what I was getting into I hopped into the back of the ambulance and we drove off for the day. 

First stop was the village of Madina Sabodala where we proceeded to vaccinate and weigh the 23 babies under a year old. I was put in charge of the weighing! Now, if you know me, you are probably aware that I love children but my experience with infants if very limited. Well in Senegal something like 60% of the population is under 18 years old… babies be jan (no, I’m not apologizing for throwing Mandinka/Malika/Mande in there, and it might happen more, deal). 

So, weighing babies consists of putting them in a sling a la Johnny Jump Up (only far less supportive) and hanging them from a scale. This is in fact the same highly effective plan as weighing fish. Using an age/weight chart you can tell how well nourished a child is fairly effectively. 

At first I was scared that I was going to break someone’s baby, but after so many mothers grab they baby by a single are and all but throw them into the sling I stopped being scared 

Most of the babies weren’t too happy with the sling, mostly I think because they were not somehow attached to their mothers. Some of them were just really curious about this person who is not only white, but also a man who was touching them. The mom’s for the most part thought it was really funny… I tend to agree with them, the babies either stared confused at me, cried, or if we were lucky they were too tired to do anything so they just wound up being blobs hanging from a scale. 

Once all the babies were taken care of there we moved on to Mamakhono. A far less organized situation compounded by the man in charge not having much respect for women (aka the moms and the volunteer trying to make things run smoother. 

Part of this general disorganization was the decision that to weigh the babies I should stand on the world’s most finicky electronic scale, hold the babies and subtract my weight. It could be faster, but thanks to the scale it was probably slower. Perhaps the most important thing to not about this technique is that I am in full contact with all the babies. With the sling when an exceptionally dirty kid came around I could just let their mother do most of the work. On the scale all I could do is hold them away from me, being very careful not to be obvious about it. This is when I got peed on a couple times, however, far fewer babies cried throughout this process. 

Note from day 1: Babies with a mohawk are always cute. Babies with the forehead soul patch… it’s about half and half. 

Day two of baby weighing started with me getting really frustrated with my host dad. Here I was looking to have a good day in the village since I was gone the whole day before, but I was so angry with him that morning that when he suggested I go with them again I did not hesitate to jump into the ambulance again. I’m glad I did because this day was really interesting and provided me with the opportunity to hear A LOT of Malinke. 

Our first stop was Diakhling. Before we could start vaccinations an weighings we had some visitors that had work to do. It seems the Japanese government is funding a pretty major health infrastructure re-haul in the area. Phase 1: Saraya gets a new hospital; Phase 2: A few other villages get new Health Posts. Diakhling may be one of those villages, except that it is very remote so secondary costs to the project are high. It becomes a question of a lot of Health Posts in easily accessible areas, or fewer in more difficult to reach places. 

This is where the fun began, the two people representing the Japanese government could speak English, so they hired a French interpreter (I assume from Dakar). Armed with their French interpreter they set out to a village that only speaks Malinke. Of the 30 or so local men in attendance only one stepped forward as able to speak French and act as the interpreter into Malinke. This was great for me because I got to hear the whole thing translated both ways, I moved myself to a spot where I could hear everything and used it as an opportunity to try to pick up some new vocabulary. Its effectiveness is debatable. 

After they got done with their interviews we went right to work. I was happy to see Johnny Jump Up come back out for the weighings, and the man in charge brought us sodas! it was a good day. A notable difference for today is that the villages were much smaller and more rural, so to make sure that all children were taken care of there were lists for each stop of who needed work done. If a mother did not show up with her child she was sent for since the ambulance will not be able to make it out there in less than a month due to the rains. 

From our first stop we moved on to Diegoung and finally Kobokhoto, each village smaller and closer to Mali than the last. It was in Diegoung that I got the screams of terror out of the babies. It was quite obvious to be that they were certain of their impending deaths in the hands of this white man. 

The comparison that comes to mind is really just for my parents and uncle. Remember the first time I was ever in a canoe? I knew for a fact that we were going to sink and I was going to die despite the PFD around my neck. I was absolutely terrified and had no problem vocalizing this, same with these particular babies. I tried to do my work fast so I could get them back to mom before they stressed themselves out too much. The only problem is that mom barely had time to calm them down before they were getting stabbed by needles, one poor boy got one in each limb. In the long run it is better for the children, so I was able to get past the tears and obtain my sense of accomplishment.

In my rush to get away from my host dad today I neglected to bring any water, and the last villages did not offer us any of their water.  By the time I made it back to my hut I was ready to drink a liter of water, which I did and then proceeded to sweat that all out.  Luckily I decided to shower right after I drank the water, so I was nice and clean by the time I started sweating again.

Quick Pic Post 2

My hut with a small goat at the back door.

On feeling like a fool and a pig: Day 2 at site*

I woke up today without needing to be woken up! I even managed to get a little privacy from the family’s latrine by tying my sheet to my “shade structure.”

Now, Clarification on that. Yesterday I was still asleep by the time the sun had fully risen, this is not how it works apparently because my host dad decided to wake me up. Next clarification, there is a section of fence missing that closes of my back yard from the rest of the compound. This particular missing section also happens to block my view of the family latrine from my outside bedding spot. I get my own latrine in my backyard by policy, which is really nice for sanitary reasons (although I suspect someone used mine last night). Final bit of clarification, yes, I do sleep outside. The inside of my hut has been maintaining a fairly constant 100ºF (according to the thermometer hanging from the wall, so this is really a more accurate description of the wall’s temperature), as such I have spent the last 2 nights sleeping under my “shade structure.” The quotes are because it really provides more of a Shade Grid since it is only the bamboo framing that will one day hold a roof and provide me with shade and rain blocking. The fact that it doesn’t provide shade doesn’t matter at night, and I’m willing to risk getting wet to sleep where it is cooler. I still wake up sweating though. Anyway, last night, I hung up my bed sheet to act as a temporary fence so I don’t have to worry about peeking in on anyone using the latrine.

The day started slow, my host dad disappeared early; apparently running off to Mali, possibly for a funeral. So helpful neighbor boy came over and tried talking to me in French only (if you aren’t aware, my French is very limited to survival phrases). After a while he pulled me over to his family compound, I greeted his mother and the woman who was visiting, then he and I started to pull apart mango pits to get at the seeds so I could plant them. (only 485 to go). After that I decided to take a walk over to the school to check on the status of the well there and if I might be able to plant some trees there.

Still needs to be dug deeper, the pile of rocks behind throws me off every time.

On my way there I greeted everyone I passed, which led to only one attempted conversation… luckily I had prepared by reviewing the word for ‘well’ and have already mastered the verb ‘to go’ in Malinke (both slightly different than Mandinka).

Lunch was plain rice with peanut sauce - tasty, but feels like a side more than a meal. Since dad was apparently in Mali it was up to me as the oldest to do the work. I waved this duty on to my oldest brother (about 10 years old) since this was only my second lunch with the family. So he split the rice in half and poured the sauce onto the half that remained in the bowl and we started eating. We finished the first half and my youngest brother left the bowl. We’re down to me and the oldest brother… he reloads the bowl with the second half of rice, peanut sauce is poured on, and we continue eating. Well, I continue eating. He took one handful and left the bowl for me, so I at it, all of it. I’ll be honest, it was only difficult for my last two spoons full.

After lunch I decided it was time for another walk… to the hill with the supposed cell phone reception (reso). I found the hill, not the reso. Making my mother proud I decided not to double back and took a new route home. I made an effort to take a few of the conversations past greetings a few times. There were 2 main themes to these conversations 1) I am not the volunteer I replaced, he is in Kedougou; 2) I only speak a little French, but I am studying Malinke (little by little).

This endeavor made me simultaneously proud of my efforts and embarrassed of my language skills. Case in point was the teenage girl helping to make dinner with her family saying in broken English, “You do not like the English do you?” I’m sure this was her saying that I don’t speak English… well I do, I just can’t understand mumbles, sorry.

So, I returned home feeling proud and inadequate so I poured water over my head to cool off.

FUN NEW PRACTICE: Bucket Bathe into a benwar (big bucket) and use that to water the plants in my backyard! **I’m pretty sure one is a Baobob!

Then it was dinner time: millet couscous with leaf sauce. SO tasty that even now that host dad is back I decided to continue eating twice as long as everyone else. It’s good, because then I feel like a pig for eating a lot at the same time as I lose all kinds of weight because I have no protein in my diet.

The End of Homestay*

Remember how on Christmas Eve you would get so excited that you couldn't sleep and Mom and Dad would remind you that, "The sooner you fall asleep, the sooner you will wake up and it will be Christmas Day!" Well it works in the other direction too.  I am currently doing everything I can so I don't have to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow and leave my new family.

It is my opinion that Peace Corps is like a 27(ish) month lifetime.  Right now, I'm getting ready to leave for college.  Okay, I have to put another clause on this 'lifetime'; it's more at the turn of the century, when leaving for college didn't necessarily mean you were coming back.

I've been living with the Mandian family in MBour for the past 2 months.  They have fed me, taught me to talk, taught me how to get around on my own, even clothed me.  What it comes down to is I love these guys, and owe them the most for helping to be able to integrate into this new society.  I might not be able to speak the same language as everyone in the house, or even be able to carry on a conversation with the ones who speak my language.  I'm going be near tears all day tomorrow, I was having trouble today when my LCF left the city.  It made it all too real.

So not only am I leaving the family I love and the city I've grown up in to go to a village where they don't speak the exact same language I've been learning... I'm also leaving the Mandikol.  The three of us have gone through pretty much all of this together, and I think the rest of our stage would agree that we are quite possibly the closest language group here (I swear we aren't exclusive, it's just that no one knows our language).

I'm leaving my family behind, my friends are splitting up, and I'm starting something completely different.  Yup, I'm off to college.  Graduation and the "Real World" coming up after IST (In Service Training) in mid July.

But, for all of my sadness and worry about the changes about to happen, I have the world to look forward to!  I'm about to get started on what I actually came to the country for.  I can look back to my post on Village Visit to get a refresher on what I have to be excited about.  It's all about keeping a handle on the past but always looking to the future.

Happy