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.

makin' movies

It’s been a month since I started production on this film I’m doing for Peace Corps. I’ve shot three of the five women in their respective homes and places of work and even got a chance to interview Amadou and Mariam (www.amadou-mariam.com). It’s been a blast kickin’ it in the big cities, eating falafel and pizza, swimming, going to concerts. I’m in Tambacounda right now, working on some animation for the film but its slow going. I came back down south to do a shoot in Kedougou with the fourth woman in the film but my camera recently came down with Senegalitis so it’s been sent back to the States for repairs. Don’t know what’s wrong with it, just that it won’t turn on. But really, this break might be a bit of a blessing in disguise for me. I’ve missed my village, my family and friends out there, my garden. Now that the rain has stopped and the fields have been harvested, I’m sure everything looks different. And all those baby trees, I have to talk to a few farmers about making sure they protect them from the animals that are about to start grazing the fields. I do dread going back a little though. It’s just been so long and I know that it will be a big deal when I show up and I have to get gifts (kola nuts, sugar, kinkiliba tea) for everyone. It’s just stressful those first few days back in the village after a long time gone and in this case, I’m only going to be there for a few days until I have to start explaining that I’m about to head back out for another month or two to finish the movie I’m making. I’m not even sure they understand what it is exactly that I’m doing. I try to explain it in Pulaar but they don’t have a lot of words for "makin’ movies" so I tell them I’m "constructing a film" ("mido fewnude show"). Who knows how they interpret that. But I am excited to see how the women’s group’s trees have taken and the Jola family I’m working with in Yero Goli. And I am excited to see if my sister in law, Salimatou, has started the boutique (village store) that she’s been talking about. Oh and one of the kids (one of my favorites), Hawa, should be back by now. She went to live with extended family in a different village for the rainy season but now that school’s started, I’m guessing she’s back home. Well, life in Senegal is less hot these days and even though I still get sick every once in a while, I’m doing great. I miss home, especially with a lot of my friends here going back for the winter holidays, but I think I’d rather spend my vacation on an adventure; whether that’s a family trip to Israel or just me and some friends traveling West Africa on public transportation. Hope all is good over there in the land of AC and TV. Peace Only ya’ll.

Ramadan

Ramadan; a time for reflection, a time for fasting, a time to take a lot of afternoon naps. In my compound, I’m up at 5:30, eating a breakfast of bread and mayonnaise with hot tea and drinking cups of water. By 6 am you better be finished, daybreak comes quick. Some mornings I’m able to fall back asleep, ignoring a full stomach, until the sounds of my compound wake me up for good. Other mornings, the book I fell asleep reading is just too good and I lay in bed, protected from the flies by my mosquito net, until I start sweating. School’s still out for the kids but usually they are nowhere to be seen- there is a monkey problem down at our garden so Ibrahima and Malick (the 8 year old and 9 year old in the family) are sent down there at sunrise to guard the garden. Every day, all day, they play in the garden, making sure to occasionally bang on a metal watering can or sing some loud song to keep those thieving monkeys away from the vegetables. My mornings are spent on my hammock, reading or as the case has been recently, studying for the GRE, on my front porch in the shade. I barely think about food until after 2 and by then I always figure that it’s only a few hours ‘til sunset. A quick bucket shower as the sky burns orange and then it’s the buffet of break-the-fast. My family usually makes two or three different dishes (Monie, Tourne, and Gosie), some spicy, others sweet. The key, I’ve learned, is not to eat too much at first because there’s a lot more food coming. After break the fast, its fresh roasted corn and peanuts followed by prayer time. I usually bring out my mat from my hut and go through the motions with them. My older brother, Amadou, leads the prayers and has his mat in front and then his wife, his younger brother, Garanke, and his wife and I all line up behind Amadou. It’s pretty incredible praying out there at night, the wind blowing and the stars so present. Often a storm is brewing and crashes of lighting and thunder punctuate the experience. You know, when they’re doing their thing, mumbling through the Arabic that they learned when they were young, it reminds me so much of praying in Hebrew. And recently, it was Yom Kippur for us Jew-balls. I’ve been doing some reminiscing about Hebrew in my hut as well since I sort of signed on to do a little something for the day of atonement at the Tambacounda Regional House. I put together a small Shacharit service full of short prayers, Bob Dylan lyrics, messages of non-violence from Gandhi in response to the situation in the middle east, and more. The night before the service, we all cooked up a storm: potato latkes, matzah ball soup, home made apple sauce, baba ganoush, tabouli… it was wonderful. At the service, everyone in the house came to participate; we had about 15 people in all and only 3 Jews. I think it was well received and I actually got feedback that some people wished it was a little longer. I figured an hour was plenty to make people listen to me chant Hebrew prayers that I only vaguely remember the tune to from summer camp, but what do I know.
I decided to stay at the Tambacounda Regional House for the Agricultural Summit, three days of meetings, field trips, and paid meals. Not to mention, I got to see a lot of friends from all over the country. I don’t usually work with the farmers in my village on their field crops but maybe next year, I can get one or two of the more adventurous farmers to try some of these new techniques for soil improvement. It’s pretty clear where the soil is degraded by the patches (sometimes large patches) of spindly corn stalks- corn is one of the best indicators of soil degradation, and my village definitely is having some problems with this issue.
And now after a few days in the village I’m heading out again. The documentary I’m working on will start shooting on the 5th or 6th. I’m giddy with excitement. I’ll let you know how it goes. Hope everything’s ok in the States and I’ll talk to you all soon.

Dakar for a Week!

From beautiful beach parties to stomach pains that I haven't experienced since India, Cape Verdian restaurants to midnight swimming, this week has proved to be quite a break from life in the village.

I came to Dakar for a Senegad (Senegal Gender and Development) meeting to plan for the next six months. The meeting was surprisingly productive and it looks like my Peace Corps service is about to make a drastic change from village tree technician to national documentarian working on a video tentatively called "Women in the Workplace". It will focus on four Senegalese women now living in the Dakar area that have followed their passions including medicine, development work, art, and education. I can't tell you how excited I am to be working on this project- it should be good for me and more importantly, a powerful way to help youth in Senegal.

The COSing (Close of Service) group is having a final conference in Dakar this weekend as well so tonight a few of us are planning to hang out and say our good bye's at their hotel. Its sad to see them go but two years isn't as long as it sounds. Soon enough, I know my group will be staying at that same hotel (inshallah) and saying good bye to all the newbies. Its strange to think that I might be coming back to West Africa for another year (doing a Fulbright in Guinea) while most of my friends here are dying to get back home to the States, but to what? Working at some coffee shop and watching a lot of TV? Doesn't sound much better than keeping the adventure going.

Tomorrow I'm out though, down to Kaolack for a night, then Tambacounda, and finally back to Amadara. I'm hoping that the rains have kept my baby trees alive- I know that I'll be getting dirty these next few weeks as the rainy season comes to an end but soon enough I'll be back up here in the NYC of Senegal to start shooting.

I'll try to keep this blog updated at least once a month- sometimes that's harder than I want it to be but what can you do? Hope y'all are having fun wherever you are and with whatever you're doing. I miss you all.

Jam ak Jam,

Barry P.