Let’s talk about today…*

Today was one of those days where I really needed Cake’s song “Sheep Go To Heaven” to help make me feel better. If you don’t know it I recommend you find it and listen to at least the opening lines. If you choose to go through the rest of the song (and why wouldn’t you?) keep in mind that I live with both sheep and goats (along with other farm animals, and yes Zach, I realize it’s an allegory).

To get the full story I guess we need to start with last night… well, I guess for that one we need to know a little about yesterday afternoon. I’ll start there:

Even though it is Ramadan I still get to eat during the day for a couple reasons (1) My light complexion apparently means I can not possibly survive a day of fasting, and (2) Most of my host family is not fasting due to age, work schedules, or pregnancies so food still gets made anyway. All the same, I still like to eat my lunches secretly in my hut so I don’t go rubbing it in for anyone who is fasting. Also, it’s kind of fun because I get my very own bowl since the ones I normally eat with are off farming, that means no need to build rice walls between my part of the bowl and that of the dirty, dirty child squatting next to me - the dirtiest one just doesn’t get it though and keep taking from my section, and it’s food I’ve already mixed to the consistency I like. I’ll let him know what’s up soon enough. After my lunch I read/nap, it’s a great system I’ve got going for me.

I’ve gotten off track. So I was heading to my hut from a morning of Malinké acquisition to hold up in my hut for “secret lunch’ (with super secret hot sauce!). Upon entering the compound I hear the distinctive “Iburahiiiimaaa…” of my host sister (actually a host aunt) to which I have started responding to by mimicking the call with her name (Kouta) as opposed to the traditional response of ‘Naamu” (A Mandinkified verstion of Arabic for “Yes” if I haven’t been lied to). She seems to get a kick out of it, and I’m happy to have an inside something of my very own with someone in the family. With greetings taken care of she dives right in to her point - I can’t leave for Saraya or Kedougou as I had planned. I need to stay in Khossanto for Korité (The party at the end of Ramadan). I really wanted to do that anyway so that was all the push I needed, “Awa, after Lunch I need to go for a bike to get cell phone reception and call my neighbor to tell him that I’m not going to Saraya to do the radio show tomorrow.” It’s the first Peace Corps radio show out of Saraya and I really wanted to be there, but there will be a bunch more of those and only one more Korité. Plus they said I’d get to eat cow, a bull in fact, and I need an excuse to wear my fancy Senegalese clothes.

So after secret lunch I did just that. The plan is - Thursday: No Radio/Saraya, Friday: Korité/Pray/Food, Saturday - Go to Kedougou and buy a bunch of phone credit to sing my mom Happy Birthday, Sunday: New volunteers head down to Kedougou for demyst (and hopefully Leah too).

Fast forward to after dinner when I decided to sit with my host dad who tells me that Korité is going to be Saturday. HOLD UP… after cross referencing with Kouta we decided that the celebration will be Saturday. This means I can go to Saraya for the radio show tomorrow (today as I’m writing)! Sweet. I’d better go to bed quick and rest up for the ride in the morning.

Now we’ll get today started, and why I need some Cake. I’m all kinds of excited so waking up at 7 is pretty easy to do. I’m trying to take it slow and make sure I don’t get rained on the whole way like last time when my host dad comes to my door to tell my that Korité will actually be on Friday… so, I’d miss it if I went to Saraya. If’ you’ve been keeping track I believe we just crossed off Plan C; luckily though it just reverts to Plan B - and I don’t have to tell anyone about any changes in plans!

No I’m bound and determined to make this day a productive one. First thing on the list, go to the Health Post and ask the ASC about Khossanto. Well, he’s gone for Korité and not coming back before I have to leave for Kedougou. Oh well, whatever, I’ll just find Moussa (my adult host brother)and get that tree he want’s planted in the compound taken care of. Well, I can’t find him so I’ll just hang out with the neighbor boy for a while… Actually, he showed me a GREAT potential gardening spot that I want to use for the school. That was a good thing in the morning.

Then it was time for Secret Lunch, after which I decided to shorten my siesta by a bit to ensure getting some work done. I headed back over to the neighbors’ compound to ask about getting my hands on a wheelbarrow to get soil for my personal tree nursery and gardens. I’ve been asking, trying to get this to happen for at least a month now and I’ll be darned if it’s not going to happen today! He had told me he knew where dirt was last week, so when I asked for a wheelbarrow he was very suspicious of where I was going to get this soil from. So I took him to take a look at the stuff I had picked out, it was rocky, but everything is rocky around here and the soil was nice and dark. He instantly said it was no good, I asked if it was because of the rocks and he informs me that it is because I would have to sift it… I’m a little impatient due to a lack of sleep, and he might be a little irritated because his stomach apparently hurts (unless he was lying to get out of work) so I probably shouldn’t have said out loud, “Right, we have to sift it because of the rocks.” I’m thinking he picked up on my attitude and spit back with a little ‘Chekho (My ancien) did it this way,’ which I think he’s realizing irritates me even more. But, no biggie, I just need to find someone with a screen to sift it with, shouldn’t be too bad. Oh, but wait, he has a place with good soil for me.

He led me to the other side of the village where we poked at a pile of rocks with a mostly clay/loam soil that was the color of sand. Not nearly as good of a soil as the other pile. Then we moved on to a decent soil with just as many rocks as the first pile, but a spot he had found so that was better (even though the first one was closer to home). Finally he takes me to the pen where his family keeps their cows at night where we both agree this is good (Basically it was a pile of manure that I really wanted to mix with the soil already in my yard to make pure awesomeness, but I needed to keep my cool). “We’ll do it at 4,” he tells me after I have to remind him that it has to happen today.

At 4 he actually came back and we grabbed my shovel and pick and made our way to the pile of manure, broke it up a bit, and confirmed it was good stuff. Then he informed me that the sun was too hot and we would come back later with the charette (a cart made to be pulled my a donkey or horse) to pick it up. I laughed a little because I didn’t believe him, but what am I going to do, I really need to use his charette so I agreed. He started to pick up the tools so I told him to just leave them since we would be coming back later in the day to pick everything up, now we have collateral involved and I am bound and determined to make this happen today.

Now it’s nap time because I realize I’m unreasonably cranky… no nap, but a tea break, kind of the same thing… but opposite. While waiting for the tea I came to terms with the fact that my white skin means I’m going to have to be assertive with certain people to allow me to actually do any physical labor. Also, the default assumption is that I don’t know how to do any physical labor and need to be taught, and finally that I am probably going to have to work using this same level of determination and slight trickery in order to make things happen on a schedule I can agree with. I’ve gotten the word ‘after’ said to me a lot and need to start reminding more often or butting my foot down with more people to keep myself from getting too angry.

In a personal triumph the neighbor boy returned later with the charette and we got the stuff into my back yard. So, knowing that Korité’s date is unclear to say the least I got to work trying to get my soil mixed and where I want it… then it started to rain.My initial calculations were a little off and the sprinkle was more of a downpour for the rest of the evening. I sat the storm out in my hut working with some bamboo pieces for the garden and almost laughed myself into tears with how all of my plans for the day had somehow fallen through.

When the rain broke I went back to work with the soil (not mud thanks to a woven mat that I threw over it). Long story short I might have caused some structural damage to my shade structure and I won’t be surprised if it isn’t standing when I get back from Summer Camp. I’m a little worried about it lasting the night to be honest with you.

Night time bucket bath.
Dinner.

Both unremarkable, but they happened. I went to remind Kouta about the radio show tonight and she made me come in, sit, and eat some tasty leaves mixed with dried fish. Tasty until you hit a big pocket of the fish. Anyway, she got the radio set up and reminded me about my fancy clothes.

I had given her my swearing-in outfit to get washed - I’m sorry Aziz, Lamine, and the Senegalese Fashion Police, they weren’t even clean when I got them and I trust her to do it right. Which she did, and spent the first half hour or so of the show ironing my clothes and getting all the creases in the right places.

Now the radio, as much as I wish I could have been there for the first show I think I’m more happy that I got to experience it with part of my host family. Now, when I actually go in to help out I have a good idea of how they’ll be reacting. I have experience with both sides of the show now, and I can’t wait to greet them from more than 40 km away!

With that said, they were really excited to know the people who were talking on the radio since they have met all the Malinké volunteers, they laughed at the jokes and danced to the American Music (looking to me to make sure they were doing it right). They were probably more excited than I was to hear my name mentioned on the radio, once as a recording of me, and another shout out from the volunteers who made it to the show.

I really do think this radio show is the start of something really cool for Saraya, if nothing else a lot more people with get an idea of what the Peace Corps is and what we are here to do.

That’s how it is, a day of small disasters topped off with an optimistic peak into the future. Donding donding.