Giving Thanks by Drinking Palm Wine and Eating Dried Cranberries…

My village for two nights; the first a restless sleep punctuated by noises of animals real and imagined, I’m sure, in the dark. The second an early to bed, early to rise affair as I had errands to run before I made my way to Velingara to catch a car headed for Tamba. The first thing I noticed as I opened my hut door was the inevitable thick layer of dust that had accumulated due to my month-long absence. My sheets were gray and my towel smelled like a floor mat. I put my stuff down and proceeded to dole out the presents I had gotten for the family. Two matching winter jackets for Ibou and Malick (my 9 and 10 year old nephews), a wrap for Hawa (the 6 year old), a few bracelets for Jenabou (the 3 year old), a Halloween themed T-shirt for Lama (the 14 year old), a Gomez T-shirt for Garanke, a pair of shorts for my tokara, and plastic jewelry for Swadou and Salimatou. Not to mention the kilo of kola-nuts to pass out unashamedly to every villager I bumped into. Since I’m planning on missing Tabaski in the village, the holiday where gifts are usually given to family and friends, I figured I better give out a few things I’d come across recently at various fuggi jai’s (literally Shake and Sell’s). That first night I enjoyed a cool bucket bath in the glow of sunset and wrote in my journal until dinner. I have a small travel journal for when I’m out of the village but it’s no replacement for the “red monster” that I’ve come to love. Dinner was enjoyable, squash and fish-balls in a watery peanut sauce over rice. It’s been a while since I’ve had to share a bowl of food with six other people. And after dinner we had the usual steady stream of visitors come and greet and ask Salimatou if she had any tea or sugar or candles left for sale. The village looks like it did that first day I moved in, the corn fields all recently harvested and the peanut fields with giant mounds of peanuts still to be separated from inedible plant material (a process which is unbelievably labor intensive and time consuming). The most notable difference was my backyard though. As I opened my back door to get some sunlight in my hut, I stood motionless and stared at the jungle that had taken over the entire area. Before I left I planted a few tomatoes and passion fruit vines but when I got back, the tomatoes had spread like wildfire and the passion fruit vines were everywhere. I had the kids in my compound help me harvest the tomatoes and then clear it all out. I also went around to a few neighboring villages to visit some friends and check up on their trees. Mamadou Ba Kamera was thrilled to see me but I had bad news for him and his village. I had been working on getting his village a PCV and they did get one but during his pre-service training (PST) in Thies, he left the Peace Corps. But he was upbeat about it and said that “inchallah” they will get another one next year. I then went to visit Alexi, a Jola friend who usually is my Palm Wine hookup. Needless to say, I ended up getting 5 liters to bring back to Tambacounda for Thanksgiving. It turned out great but by day three, we still had plenty left over and it was already starting to turn so I gave it to a Catholic friend in Tamba to finish off with his friends. Thanksgiving at the Tamba House was great. Everyone made a dish, I made eggplant soufflé, and there were dried cranberries and smashed potatoes and even squash pie. Actually, since no one made any meat dishes, it was an amazingly vegetarian Thanksgiving. That evening for desert we went over to an ex-pat couple’s house that we’re friends with (they used to be PCVs in the early 90’s in West Africa) and had homemade ice cream and pies galore. Two days later, my producer and I headed back up to Dakar to start editing the documentary. So now I’m in Dakar and I have pretty frequent internet access so I’ll try to keep this site updated. Hope everyone else’s Thanksgiving went well and I look forward to hearing from you all.