Only in Senegal

With only a few short months left here, I thought I'd pay tribute by sharing some of my "only in senegal" moments. All of these have happened to me or to a person I was with. I think its appropriate to separate these into categories.

Attempted Pick ups

Only in Senegal:

1. OIS will a fat, middle-aged man chase you down the street frantically in the heat of the day and breathlessly ask you if you have a husband. Or if you know that you're white. Oh my god, really?! I had no idea.

2. OIS will a man of any age try to pick you up while both playing with himself and picking his nose, rolling the boog around his finger and then wiping it on your wall.

3. OIS will that same man, after being rejected, ask you to give him your friend, older/younger sister, mom, 80 year-old grandmother.... just so long as she is white. The phrase "I want a white wife" will haunt my dreams forever.

4. OIS will a man sympathetically offer me the position of wife #2. Because at the old age of 23, here, I am a spinster.

5. OIS is it an ongoing joike that I'm engaged to an infant. But they take it to a whole new, pedophile level when they tell me to bring him into my room at night before bed. Come on guys really? I'm beginning to realize that "creepy" does not, and will not, EVER, translate into Pulaar.

6. OIS is it okay for a man to, after finding out that I have a "husband," tell me what a shame it is. Then proceed to tell me that if I didn't, he'd take me to his mother's house and lock me in a room so I could never escape. I kindly reminded him that I did, in fact, have one. No need for a felony today thanks!

Everyday occurrence

1. OIS will a crazy naked man chase you down the street and throw trash at you in the Garage Nioro.

2. OIS will you ACTUALLY slip on a banana peel. All I could think was "Odoyl Rules!" (See Billy Madison).

3. OIS will you wake up to someone trying to breast feed their baby on you. Sorry ladies, no milk here! On the same note, only here will you wake up to a 5 year old licking your mosquito net and staring through it at you.

4. OIS is it perfectly acceptable to discuss digestive health over dinner. I'll try not to bring that habit back with me.

5. OIS can you find shirts/hats/underwear/etc. that say Obama: President for Space, Obama: Yes we ran (my guess is a typo there) and my personal favorite, don't worry there are pictures to come: "Barack Obama: He touched everyone"

6. OIS will your taxi driver pick up a hooker.... while you're still in the car!

7. OIS is it socially exceptable for men to hold hands, sit on each other's laps and walk with their hands in each others back pockets.... while trying to pick me up. Haha! homophobia be damned!

8. OIS will people point out the fact that i'm sitting, eating lunch, sleeping, or as if I didn't know already, white. And no, correction, I WAS sleeping.

9. OIS will people tell you that you're "partying" no matter what kind of day you're having.

Creeper: Hey! You're partying! You're white, you've got money, you're totally partying"

Me: No, actually not today. My village won't work, I have a parasite, my car broke down

and I'm in a bad mood. So.... no, I'm not partying.

Creeper: Nope, you're partying. You've got money.

Me: My pants are held together with duct tape and safety pins.

Creeper: Laughing...... toubab

Me: Getting angry.....yelling, I'm not a toubab!!!! And, because of parasite, go throw up in a bush. And as I come back, we get in the car thats now fixed. Feeling slightly better and trying to fall asleep.

Creeper: Whispering to his neighbor... That toubab is partying.

Me: AHHHHHH!

10. OIS will you get smacked in the face by a dirty rug while walking through the Kaolack market (courtesy of Laura Coberly) haha! That one was really funny.

Everyday Fibs

1. OIS will I be able to convince people of all ages that I not only know Jackie Chan, Bruce Lee, Rambo, Akon and whatever other random celeb they throw at me, but we're close personal friends. I once told a guy that Obama was my dad. You should've seen how wide this guys eyes got.

2. OIS can I convince people that their president cooks me lunch whenever I go to Dakar. Keep in mind, this is a muslim country. Men don't work, at least in my village.

3. OIS do people actually believe me when I say that every white woman, in the world, has a husbad.

I hope you enjoyed the little look into my everyday life, I'll update on actual work crap a little later. Love you guys!

I promise I'm doing some work over here

Once again, WAIST (West African International Softball Tournament) has come and gone. Though we were not competitive this year, we still had a blast dressing up like lumberjacks and playing some softball. We won 2 of our 4 games which is amazing considering we were drinking bloody marys at 8am every single morning and staying out until 5 or 6am every night. During our first game, against Mali, I continued the tradition of distracting the other team with my ridiculously short shorts. And of course, dancing around the pitchers mound; but what else is new. Little did the girls know, that I'm proud of my jaayfunde. So, when they yelled out "Pitcher's got a big butt," it only made me take a bow, say thank you and proceed to shake it in their general direction. Thus distracting their male players even moreso in my daisy dukes.

Of course, whenever drinks are mixed with baseball, there will be a few casualties. Stephanie unfortunately caught a ball with her face as she relaxed in the grass watching the game. Boo! That should be an interesting one to explain to the village, since we all told our families that we were attending a very important meeting for volunteers in Dakar. Meeting.... Softball.... Same thing right? My suggestion is to tell them there was a runaway flip chart. Peace Corps Senegal Admin can not get enough of their flip charts. Thank god there are so many agfo volunteers, because we've killed a lot of trees with those things.

Anyway, our best game was against the Tamba/Kedagou team. They were cavemen. Neither team was competitive so we spent the game taunting each other and running the bases drinks in hand. They even had a girl dressed up like a dinosaur. For us, Jared was going to go as Babe the Big Blue Ox, but alas we could not find any body paint. Such a shame. I guess you can never have too many lumberjacks though.

Unfortunately though, Waist had to end and its back to the real world. ish. My wallet was stolen while I was in Dakar so I was forced to break into my hut (which only took 2 minutes....comforting) and put in new locks. Samba was pleased to be given an extra project . But, being back in the village is going really well. I stressed out and made a list of things I need to finish before coming home in a few months. I suddenly realized that I'm going to be really busy YIKES! I have decided to do a big pepiner with the elementary school in the next town. Plus, finishing latrines, village pepiners, information sessions and I think 2 or 3 other projects that I need to finish before leaving but can't remember at the moment. So I was in Kaolack for a few days writing grants and finishing up my mosquito net distribution requirements, but i'm going home in about half an hour. Just enough time to bathe before dark.

The thought of pulling water right now though does not sound appealing in the slightest. It is unbearably hot, since the hot season is back in full force. There are no transistions in Senegal. It went from just a little sweaty during the days and cold at night....to..... cant even move its so stinkin' hot! Good luck Rachel, you're coming for the hottest months of the year. Nicely thought out haha! I should be back in Kaolack at the end of the month for the St. Paddy's day party and I feel like I'll need a few days out of the village after 20 days straight. Next blog I'll tell the story of my free ride up to Kaolack with a creeper the other day. Right now I have no motivation to write though--- too hot and I want to go home. I assure you though, its pretty entertaining. Look forward to it in a few weeks. Love you guys!

The taming of the shrew

After a rocky start and fleeing from the village in tears, I made my way back for the second time to give it another shot. Sunday, my nearest neighbor and I met up in the road town for a meeting with an NGO worker, before making our way back to Pakane for a lunch of fish balls, potatoes and rice. DELICIOUS! And no pervs, fish balls are not what you're thinking they are. A nice blend of peanuts, msg and mashed up fish (and fish bones) molded to form a ball the shape of Cumba's hand. Yum!

True to form, Ari (neighbor) and I retreated to my room to speak english and have some "America" time. Sitting in the doorway to my backyard, I just happen to look down at my feet and see a mouse, wait no, a shrew crawling around under my legs. Insert girly scream here. The shrew retreats to the corner behind my trunk. Granted, I never EVER clean behind or under this trunk because I'm terrified of it. There are always scorpions who run around my room and stab my feet. Jerks. So, of all the places for there to be critters, they will be there. The nasty little thing continues to taunt us for a few minutes, poking its head out of random places, running out at my feet, typical creepy rodent behavior. And excuse me, but aren't these things supposed to be nocturnal? Isn't it the same little guy who kept me up in my hut for months on end? If you're going to live in my hut, don't come out during the day (or do if you know the rest of this story) and keep quiet. We can live harmoniously if you follow these two simple rules. Alas, they are rodents and their brains are very tiny and thus, cannot reason or be considerate. DAMN!

Like any normal girl, Ari and I are laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation and screaming anytime the shrew pokes its head out to say hello. Fatimata and Cumba, one of the women in my compound and my host mom, intrigued by the crazy noises coming from my hut, poke their heads in to see whats going on. I tell them and they ask if I'm afraid of it. My answer, a very enthusiastic YES, sends them into fits of laughter, even more so when the see the thing. Thanks guys, make fun of me even more. Needless to say, the tell me to sweep the corner of death and leave my hut.

Out of nowhere, it shrieks, causing even my little brown widow spider friend to jump off the wall at us, causing even more screaming. ENOUGH! We decide, there's no getting around it. It must die. End of story. So, I kick the trunk as far against the wall as it will go.... and Nothing. Not even a peep. And more so, no shrew. Confusion sets in. But never fear, Sira Ba has a machete! Now, what I expected to do, if I actually killed it is beyond me. I would be scarred for life (which I am anyway, but we'll get to that). Very slowly and ever so carefully as not to alert the rodent, I put the machete half way down behind the trunk. Then, a quick plunge of the sword and an extremely loud shriek from the shrew sends us into fits of girlish screaming yet again.

Fatimata, comes running into the room, probably afraid we stabbed ourselves with the machete. I tell her in a shaky voice, "mi sikki o mayat!" In other words "I think he died!" She goes to the trunk and looks, turns around and informs that no, Sira Ba, you didn't kill the shrew. Sorry. DAMN!!!! However, as soon as she moved my trunk, the shrew takes off under my bed and around the perimeter of my hut. The girly screaming continues from Ari and myself, as does the laughing from what is now about 10 villagers in my front yard who decided that the afternoons activity would be "toubab watching." Finally, it runs behind the other trunk on the not scary side of my hut, where I trap it. She instructs me to keep it trapped there until she returns. Insert look of disbelief here. You want me to do what!

She comes back, with Cumba and a stick. Cumba takes my machete from me. Ok Sira, move your hammock (that happens to be blocking one of its exits) just a tiny tiny bit. I do. Down goes the stick, Fatimata spears the shrew! Intense. Shrew screams ensue, as do ours. A good three minutes of shrew screams later, Cumba steps in. After trying to stab it to no avail, down comes the machete. One hard chop, right on the top of the head. Blood flies, shrieking ceases, I am scarred for life. At least the rodent is deceased. Thanks ladies, I love them!

I came, I saw, I ate

Alas, the prodigal daughter returned to America. Unfortunately, for those of you who didn't get a chance to pop over and visit, I am back in Senegal. However, being home was absolutely amazing despite my newly discovered oddities and socially unacceptable behavior. Upon going to Trader Joes with my mom, I managed to take pictures of the produce, hold a really awkward conversation regarding my food choices in Senegal and managed to do a double take every time I heard someone speaking english. News flash Sarah: everyone speaks english. But, in response to the awkward conversation with my mom, I really didn't think my food choices were so terrible until I got "the look" from her. Granted, I guess you could say that meat standards in Senegal and America are not quite equal. To be clear, Senegal has no meat standards. While in Trader Joes, lurking around the meat section and admiring how pretty it was (sounds strange, I know), I turned to my mom and asked:

Me- "So, you know how sometimes, the meat has that green stuff on the outside?"
Mom- (insert horrified look here) "No Sarah"
Me - "No, sometimes there is that green--"
Mom- "No. I dont." (another horrified look)

Then, she walked away from me. God help me, I actually thought that was normal! Despite a few minor set backs, like picking my nose in public, saying Alhumdoullilah in situations where no one else would understand, shooting dirty looks to people who hand me something with their left hand and eating salad with my hands, I managed to successfully convince people that I was a normal American girl. Alhumdoullilah (crap there I go again).

After a few days at home, I made the long trip down to Kentucky to stay with some friends. Hannah came in the second night, and like a true friend, embraced my awkwardness and went face first into a watermelon right along side of me. Apparently that is not a normal thing to do either. Kim also flew in the next morning, so it was off to the airport for bloody mary's and then some shopping with my girls. Since there were a few other friends coming in (Andrew and Tara I love you guys), we opted for a hotel rather than staying with friends again. Naturally, when the receptionist asked if we wanted two beds, we said yes. But.... since Louisville is stuck in 1950, we were surprised to walk in and find that our "2 beds" were actually 2 TWIN beds. We had 5 people. Anyone up for snuggling? Really louisville? Really?

But after a fun weekend, it was time to go back up to Chicago and freeze my butt off. Christmas was great, I got what every girl dreams of: a snuggie. What could be better you ask? Why a book light of course, thank god it came with one!

I have to say that the best part of my trip home was how clean everything is! Myself included, I didn't realize just how dirty living in a mud hut actually is until, well, I was not living in a mud hut. The first night, I went to bed and my mom tripped over a box in the hallway. She peeked her head in to make sure that she didn't wake me up and said I was smiling into my pillow mid- REM cycle.... If that doesn't tell you Americans have it lucky, I have no idea what is. You can sleep in beds!!!!! real beds!!! Mine in the village right now probably has a bush rat living in it. No kidding. Before I left, a giant creature (my guess being mutant rat) actually ate a hole through my water filter. That is some seriously hard, thick plastic people! Freakin mutant rat!!! I kept hearing it in the middle of the night and shining my flash light over to see it and it would jump up to the roof. Actually, it probably could have stepped up to the roof from my desk it was so huge. So yea, to answer your question, I'm looking forward to going back..... Bring it on parasites, looks like ill be drinking well water.

Any way, actually getting onto the plane was a challenge. I was dragged kicking and screaming onto the plane, Goose Island Honkers Ale in hand and refusing to step off the plane in Dakar until they put a starbucks somewhere. Ok so maybe thats an exaggeration, it was more like sulking as I got onto the plane and letting the man next to me buy wine until we almost emergency landed in Ireland. Geez. Despite the horrible turbulence, late flights and so on, i showed up in dakar looking sassy in my heels in beautiful 75 degree weather. Jealous? But tomorrow I am off to the village. Sira Ba returns, get ready Pakane. Your crazy toubab is back! 8 months and im done, crazy right! Yikes!

Sorry Im so lazy

I know I know, its been a while since I wrote on here. We didnt have internet at the house and I lost my charger for a while haha! I am one special kid. And plus, now that i have my charger and computer, im just being lazy. Anyway....

What have I been up to since my last stint in Dakar? That is a great question haha! Well the rainy season has since ended, meaning that my tree work is finished. Outplanting is finally done and my papayas from this season are already fruiting! In about a month I'll be eating the fruits of my labor, so to speak. And, we made our first sauce with the leaves from my nebadaye trees the other day.

Korite has come and passed, which means that Ramadan is over. Hooray! Like all senegalese holidays that i've experienced, everyone made a big fuss, dressed up, ate about 4 lunches and then sat around for the rest of the day talking about how fat we all are. Ha! Very anti-climactic. Where as last year I was in my training village, this year in Pakane we ate chicken instead of goat. Which to be honest, was much better despite the chickens being the miniscule. They were delicious none the less. Although, I must admit that opening the bowl to see the boiled chicken head the the feet stuffed through the neck hole is not really what I was expecting.

Thinking back to last years Korite post, I have to wonder, why is it that Senegalese always want to eat animal faces? Last year it was goat face, this year chicken face. I mean seriously, there cant be very much meat on that, and there definitely isnt any on the feet! But sure enough, my little sisters chomped away at the msg flavored parts. To look over and see a chicken foot or a beak sticking out of a 3 year old's mouth, well, I guess all I can say is, thats interesting.

As with all holidays, I became the village photographer. Such is life I suppose. Annoying, annoying life lol.

In other news, we've got a new little bundle of joy in the Ba household! Halimatou Ba, tiniest little thing ever! She's a doll. In her honor, we had everyone in the village over for lunch to pray and eat goat for lunch. While its awesome to have meat for lunch, or ever, having 200 people hanging out in my compound all day and every single one of them wanting to hang out in the toubab's room is not my idea of fun. After a few hours I had to grab my book and escape into the bush.

However, I did discover that I thoroughly enjoy tying babies on my back.....until they pee. After the fourth time I took the munchkin to my room and tied a plastic bag around her butt. Problem solved. Now everyone gives me funny looks and thinks I'm weird for tying bags onto babies. But hey, theyre the ones getting peed on, not me!


My least favorite thing about Peace Corps is when my friends leave the country. This last group to go was by far the hardest. These were my best friends, my closest neighbors and my support group. Saturday night, one of by bests left, fellow nioro-er and romance novel extraordinaire. This weekend, Kate and myself came up to Dakar to see of Abigail before she left. A night on the town, which was pieced together the next morning lol, a trip to the zoo and tapas/drinks at a nice restaurant was a great way to see her off. I must say, the zoo in Dakar has to be the most depressing place I've ever been! You know how growing up you think that the zoo has metal bars encaging every animal, and then you go and its actually nice cases with little habitats and the animals actually eat better than you do? Well, here is not the case. They fed them all with the city's left over stale bread and whatever visitors decided to throw at them, and for the first time, those metal bars were there. Except for the camels. Walking around to the otherside of there chain link fence, one stuck its head out to nudge us, turns out there was an entire chunk missing and the camels could easily escape. Hey more power to them! Run camel run! And seriously Senegal, where the heck did you get a tiger? I'm pretty sure they're not native to Africa!



Saturday night, Abi left and Kate and I decided to do the Goree Swim. I wrote about it in my list of things to do before I was 25. Well done Miss Knight, you can mark one off the list! I swam 4.4 k in open ocean (with my shark friends) to an island just for a tshirt and a couple of small cookies. Well, and I guess the bragging rights. Less than a quarter of the way there I remembered, oh yea, I am not a swimmer! The farthest I've ever swam is from the middle of the deep end to the wall. Divers should not attempt this EVER. Poor life choice Sira Ba, poor life choice. With the only things going through my head for the next three quarters being dori's voice from finding nemo singing "just keep swimming, just keep swimming" and the chorus to "Oh what a night" you can see why I wanted to finish immediately. I was even annoying myself. A 2 and a half hour long swim with waves? Kill me. But now its done and I never have to do it again!!!! Alhumdoulillah! There were four volunteers who swam and if I may say, we're cooler than the ones who didnt do it. Haha, well maybe more crazy than cool, but whatever. Its been a eventful month or so, so there was a lot to say, but this is for you rachel. Your blog post, I get lazy sometimes. My bad. Love you all and thanks for the care packages this month!!!! Im eating like a queen!!!! Jabba the hut better watch his back, sira ba might be able to kick is ass pretty soon. HA! yes mom, I said ass!





















----Side note, I have creeping eruption. Look it up, its gross!

Pakane, mi yewnitii maa!!!!

Squishy couches, air conditioning, hot showers, an endless supply of American movies and tv shows and everyone around me speaks english. Who knew that Peace Corps was so, well, comfortable! Minus the crippling pain under my right rib, the inconvenient IV in my arm that, after day 4, became so painful that I couldn't stand another minute of it and the mind-numbing headache, I'd say its a pretty nice stay in Dakar!

Last Wednesday I headed back to the village after having to come up to Dakar for the SeneGAD (gender development) meeting. On the way home, my stomach started feeling a little "iffy" if you will. But, considering this is Senegal, and my stomach is never really normal, I shrugged it off and figured it would just go away. Come morning, lets just say, things did not improve. To put it lightly, death would have been a relief. On a normal day, my temperature is around 96 degrees. I guess I'm just cold-blooded. But anyway, I had a fever of 101 and I could barely move or breath because the pain was so bad. Finally, I sucked it up and called our doctors. As I feared, they insisted that I come back to Dakar immediately. I said no. Mi Jabaa! I mean, I had just gotten back to the village the day before and felt bad leaving again so soon. She told me to go to Kaolack early in the morning. Bright and early at 630AM, the doctor called back to see if I had left yet. I had not, because I couldn't get out of bed. She sent a car to my village to pick me up since I couldn't walk myself out to the road. Yikes! Maybe I should have listened Thursday.

Turns out, the driver was an A-hole and decided that his personal errands (bargaining for corn for 4 hours on the side of the road) were more important than a sick volunteer. Needless to say, my doctor was not pleased. After finally making it to come pick me up at noon (5 hours late), we were on our way to Dakar. I made it there at 5 and was admitted to the hospital immediately. I was so scared, but my doctor stayed with me the entire time I was there and went to every test with me. It was nice to have someone to speak french for me, since I could barely think in english as it was! Chest x-rays, ultra sounds, blood tests and what seemed like an endless supply of morphine into my IV made for one eventful weekend. End result? Drum roll please......

Gall Bladder Attack.

What the heck does the gall bladder even do was my question! and what did I ever do to it to make it hate me so much!!!! Apparently, I am no longer allowed to binge eat when I come out of the village. BOO! And have to make sure that most of my foods are low-fat, at least for a while. What fun is that?!? I suppose i'll have to follow it or else I'll land myself right into gall bladder surgery. Lame.

But, at the moment, I am on the mend and can hopefully go home on Monday. Well see, as of now, they said it was ok, but we'll see if anything ridiculous happens this weekend. Keep your fingers crossed that my body stays normal!!!! I miss my village and would like to spend more than 2 nights there this month.

Senegal Je t'aime

As I sit on the eve (almost) of my one year anniversary with Senegal drinking a Gin and Bissap (aka g-sap) and listening to year-old American music since I have no idea what is popular there now, its hard to believe how different my life has become. One year ago today, I was sitting in a mess of clothes, giant bottles of hair supplies/make up and God knows whatever else I brought into country arguing with my mom about the best way to pack and telling my dad that there was no way in hell I was leaving out the Q-tips (I was right about that one by the way). The closest to roughing it I had ever come was sleeping in a hammock in Red River Gorge while eating Cheetos and drinking bourbon. My motto, to use my mom's words, was "camping is no room service." As the deadline drew closer, I of course, ate all my favorite foods and had my annual identity crisis about the meaning of life and why it is that I do what I do.

But, on the morning of September 8th, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, I jumped on a plane to Philidelphia for staging. Showing up to my hotel room with my hair styled cute, heels on and make up applied perfectly, I succeeded in scaring the hell out of my now, best friend here Natalie. Haha! If it were not for this girl, I would never have survived training. Even as late as November, when I installed in Pakane, I trapped a huge cricket under tupperwear and made a neighbor come to get it out of my hut. I don't do bugs.

Now however, my life seems to play a different tune. With the rainy season upon us, creepy crawlies come out of the woodworks to terrorize me, the smell of mildew and black mold on my clothes, bed and probably even myself is unbelievably pungent, the roof on my hut leaks so badly that I might stay dryer standing in the torrential downpour and on more than one occasion I've woken up to a scorpion climbing up my mosquito net. On any given day, my whole body breaks out with heat rash or some sort or fungal infection, I discover some sort of parasite/worm living in my body or a naked man chases me through the Kaolack market (that happened today). For some reason, this was left out of the booklet they gave before we accepted our positions. With that said, this is my life, my love, my Africa. And God help me, I wouldn't change it for the world. At no other point in my life would I voluntarily give up food and water (in addition to the previous paragraph) for an entire month during 125 degree weather and still have a smile on my face.

All of this said, I can only look back on the past year with happiness. So many things have changed. For example, I drink most of my beverages out of plastic bags (my gin included), I haven't shown my knees in public since last year (me, the queen of mini skirts), things like hard boiled eggs and milk straight from the cow are, in my opinion, more valuable than gold and don't find it odd at all to see two grown men, wearing thug-life tshirts and baggy jeans, holding hands or sitting on each others laps. But, on the other hand, some things will always stay the same. I make Starbucks espresso every morning before leaving my hut and yesterday, I trapped a big creepy spider under a pot and had my host brother take care of it. Scorpions I can do, spiders I cannot.

This past year, I feel like i've found some of the beauty in Senegal, which is not the creepy crawlies, and plan to keep doing the same for my next and final year. It has all gone by so quickly that I can only hope to slow it down just a little. See you all in December for my first time back in the states in over a year. I AM TERRIFIED!