Full Circle*

A few days ago I hopped on my bike to go on a bush path I'd never been on before to go to a village I'd never actually been to before. I have meet several pretty awesome people from there, but I'd never actually gone. There were a few reasons I did this - there was the phone call I got that brought (what I will diplomatically call) a series of miscommunications to a head, my having repeatedly said the phrase "I need an adventure" on a fairly regular basis lately didn't hurt either. With that I'm going to take a tip from The Song of Ice and Fire and lead off with a map (really any fantasy novel, but this series is tied to Senegal for me. Also, if anyone messes up the fifth book for me...). Yes the map should be before this even, but I'm calling Artistic License and putting the crude and potentially very inaccurate thing here.

Once upon a time I went to meet my neighbor in his millet field he'd brought me to the week before on the road to Bambaraya... I wound up at a dead end in some random guy's cornfield just as a storm rolled in. Ever since I realized where I went wrong I've kept my eye on that road just waiting to show it who's boss. With that in mind I was on point with my morning routine in preparation for a biking day and made it on the road shortly after breakfast. Wait too long this time of year and you might kill yourself in the noontime sun.

This bush path (basically some single track for those who have that lingo down) very quickly reminded me of just how big a fan I am of Beladougou - Beladougou is the name of the old-timey Malinke "Kingdom" that Khossanto is a part of. Political boundaries sometimes roughly follow these lines but usually combine things as well. Everyone knows where they stand as far as the kingdoms go... I know that I'm in Beladougou and that all the other volunteers (up to very soon) that speak Malinke are in Dantila. This really has no bearing on anything; there are more Danfakhas (family name) in Dantila and more Cissokhos in Beladougou. The language is also a tinsy bit different, we use the x (kh sound) a little more in Beladougou I'm told; I've never had trouble understanding anyone, it's every once in a blue moon I'll actually hear a difference in a word. When I try to translate Beladougou I'm stuck mixing in French-ish and making it "Beautiful Land," I've never asked but my guesses to the actual meaning are "Everyone's Land" or "The Land That Is (There)."

Anyway, this particular path (and really everyone that isn't the main road through) highlighted the things that make me feel like Beladougou is a unique place in Senegal. We may not have the waterfalls that are in the South of the Region, but it does have terrain and there's also the Gold. That last one brings in a lot of interesting people. I like to pretend I live in the Old West, which makes my cowboy bed sheets that much more appropriate. The views can be great in some places making it look like the hills go on forever, and some valleys seen downright magical... unfortunately the distance views weren't all that great this time around thanks to the winds "from Mauritania," as one man put it, that bring dust from the desert. It's like a really foggy day, except that it's hot-dry season.

First I found myself in a small village called Bambaryanding (that was a joke because the -ding makes it mean Little Bambaraya). This would have been a great place for me to go when I was feeling bad about my language abilities. All I did was ask for directions and those women doing their laundry were blown away. "Turn Right?" was the question that brought the house down.

That right turn brought me to Bambaraya, where I stopped in at the school to get the scoop on the village from the teachers. From there I made my way to the Village Chief, who was unfortunately out of town so I talked to the guy that's in charge when he's gone and left him a Volunteer Request form. Those awesome people I mentioned at the start of this post are from Bambaraya and had been asking for the form for a while now but I haven't had any to give until now.

Find the baboons.

After taking care of things in Bambaraya I headed to the Arrondissement of Sabodala (roughly Beladougou). From there I went straight to the health post to see a familiar face in the nurse that was in Khossanto for most of my service (not the infamous one from that last post, still not sure what the plan is there by the way). He helped me plan out my next few stops, fed me, and offered a place for me to spend the night. He also shed some light on those miscommunications that helped instigate the trip.

Sabodala is a little more used to seeing toubabs. This is where the actual mining companies are, so they see a lot of Australians and Canadians. They don't speak the local language though, so when I walked into the health post, on what happened to me a big baby vaccination day, and got the all-important "Khossanto ngolu be dii?" greeting right... well I got a reaction. Once you get that greeting right "you're done" learning Malinke, and they didn't even expect me to speak it at all. The women loved it, and some of the kids did too. There was a group of babies though who say my white skin and long blond-ish hair and it was like the boogey man had come for them. I'm pretty sure I made a couple pee on their mothers.

It was great to see the nurse there again; he was very helpful at the start of my service. I think he's the first person my host father introduced me to on my first day actually. It was also amazing talking to him and seeing just how much both my Malinke and French have improved since I saw him last. It's nice to have a conversation and not come across a word that you need to have explained to you.

After lunch there he suggested that I go to this small village right next door, Madina Sabodala. There I found the first female head community health worker I've met in country. She was really helpful and called over the village chief and we had a really good chat. It was a very interesting little village surrounded by a lot of big things with the mining companies around. If I had to come up with a word to summarize that chat though it would be "Trees," they want tress, all kinds of trees.

After that I went back to the Sabodala health post and spent the night there. The next morning at the warning of the nurse I went to meet with the Imam (village religious leader) instead of the chief. Apparently recently the village had a little march in opposition of the chief... so talking with the Imam was the less controversial route to take. After a bit of a search I more or less just happened upon him where someone was starting to build a new hut. We had a quick talk since he seemed busy, but he did provide a bit of a tour of the village for me while he was walking around trying to find water. My summary of Sabodala is that it's a strangely large village that doesn't quite know what to do with itself. Hopefully it doesn't go boom then bust like the old west.

With that I took my leave of Sabodala and headed to Branson. There's a pair of villages tiny that are at the halfway point where I stopped to get a drink from my water bottle... which I did NOT find strapped to the back of my bike where I put it. This isn't just any water bottle here mind you; it's a metal one from America that I had wrapped in fabric to make what my village likes to call an "African Fridge." I've been excited about having that back in America, and the fabric on it was a gift from volunteer who left a while ago. All that plus the fact that I would get severely dehydrated if I biked all the way with no water (and I wasn't sure about the ability to buy a bottle of water in Bransan) made me decide to head back toward Sabodala to pick it up off the road. After suspiciously eyeing everyone I passed on the road I found myself back in Sabodala where no one had seen my water bottle. Dejected, I headed to a boutique and bought a bottle of water. While leaving town a man that knows me from Khossanto was very confused when he saw me leaving for the second time, so I explained the situation to him. He reassured me that I could buy a new bottle when I get to America, to which I tried to explain the nostalgia in that bottle. Then I provided my theory that the bottle had dropped at the edge of town where some bratty kids asked me for a gift instead of greeting me and they took it. I told him that if he sees my water bottle he should take it and bring it to me. I really don't think that's going to happen, but how awesome would that be?!

Back at that halfway point I was greeted by a rather large herd of children who had just gotten out of class as I refilled my water. I decided to ask what they were learning, to which I was told what class each and every one of them was in. Once that was all straightened out I was allowed to leave as a dozen or so of the kids ran with my bike to the edge of the village. Those children were so excited just to talk to me, and not a single one of them asked for a gift... I was laughing as I left. That made up for the frustrating morning.

A few hills later and I a massive view, well I think it was at least thanks to those desert winds, I arrived in Bransan. There I found a charred health hut... one person described the mystery fire as the bamboo fence and shade structure having caught on fire, another said that the fire started because the solar was set up wrong and something happened with the fridge. Either way the building was unusable. I was then directed to the community health worker's brother's shop where he put in a call and called him in from a village nearby and about a half hour later I was talking to him. He, by the way, is the one who provided the poor wiring theory so I tend to believe that theory more.

I stayed with him through the heat of the day getting a feeling for the place. I found this to be a really interesting village, there was a pretty substantial Pulaar population but pretty much everyone could still speak Malinke so I had no troubles getting around. It peaks my interest especially because I've wanted to get a little handle on Pulaar basics for a while now, all kinds of excuses have made that impossible.

Speaking of random pockets of Pulaar, my next stop was Dialokhotoba where everyone's default language was Pulaar. Most could still speak Malinke, and many were ethnically, but the Pulaar had won out as the dominant language. It's also worth mentioning, the -ba of Dialokhotoba makes it mean Big Dialokhoto... which kind of feels like an inside joke because the only other Dialokhoto I know is along the National Route and significantly bigger. That aside, this village has a lot going for it. The community health worker came highly recommended, but unfortunately wasn't there. The reason he was gone was to get medical supplies from Kedougou (a good sign). What I was pulled in by was the primary school, not only did they have their own garden that the teachers started and worked in with the students but they also used it in their lesson plans (math for example was quoted by a teacher) AND put the produce into school lunches.

The one teacher who gave me the tour mentioned that this was the first year they used the produce in lunches and he also noticed that there were fewer students missing class because they were ill. He admitted this could be nothing but a coincidence, but it's still a good thing. I'm trying to figure out the best way to take a field trip there with a few teachers from my village to see what they are doing, unfortunately water's run out and the garden is not green at all right now. On top of that the women’s' group saw the garden and said, "Hey, we want to do that to!" So they did, with the help of the teachers.

I took the teachers up on the offer of a place to stay, and they took me to all the notable people of the village the next morning. It was very helpful since a couple of them only spoke Pulaar. I actually had to cut that short since there are a lot of notable people there so that I could leave and not be on the road come midday. On the way out of village I stopped to chat with the first guy I had talked to when I came into the village and asked him the best way to get to Diakhaling. I was right in my guess that there would be a bush path somewhere nearby. He gave very good directions and the bush path was pretty straightforward. Another really fun chunk of single track that will be crossing a few rivers once rainy season comes. It did go through a section that was more or less a bamboo forest. I love Beladougou.

I came into Diakhaling through the jurra, or artisanal mining site, giving that Wild West feel to the whole thing. I surprised myself by maneuvering through town and getting myself to the correct road and just having to confirm that it was the right way, not straight up ask for directions.

This last stretch of biking had me organizing all my thoughts and impressions of the last few days... and boy, was that a jumbled mess to deal with! Part of the reason I did this trip was in preparation for the new volunteers coming out here. I wanted to provide them with a little more insight into the area they are coming into. This got me thinking about how I felt when I was in their position - justifiably terrified. Now look at me, making maps, going to villages I've never been to before, introducing myself to the notables, all in the hopes of helping alleviate some of that anxiety for the two new volunteers that I was feeling two short years ago. So many languages! I did most of the trip in Malinke, but French came out a lot when talking to the health workers - and I did improve my Pulaar a little bit (I figured out how to say "this road?").

As much as I had thought to myself "I wish I'd done this sooner," I can't actually say I have any regrets. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I had my reasons not to do something like this until now and they were fully justified. With that, around 100km later, I was back in Khossanto having gotten a view of the beautiful land of Beladougou with just enough time to pull water and shower before lunch.

Full Circle.