(Say it again)
I just finished writing a guest post for Amanda's blog that you can read by clicking here. I took it as an opportunity to expand on what I already wrote about my volunteer visit.
This week was counterpart workshop which means my two counterparts came to the training center all the way from Kolda to attend sessions on everything from Peace Corps philosophy to logistics of my installation. It was also a chance for us to start getting to know each other (not so easy when all I can say are things like "It is cold here," "Did you eat dinner?" "Mandinka is difficult," "This is an eggplant."). Still, I managed to communicate enough of my personality to make them laugh, which as far as I'm concerned is a huge success, especially because my 19 year-old smurf of a counterpart has one of the goofiest laughs I've ever heard and I'm making it my personal mission to get it out of him as often as possible in the next two years.
I'm in for some good times and a lot of misunderstandings and confusion and hard work and a tired body and lots of time to read and think. I'm in for a great service I think. More than ever I can't wait for training to be over and to get to my village... 18 days!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
De-miss - Quick! Draw a line in the sand!
Yesterday evening I got back to Thiès – tired, slightly under the weather, and in theory, demystified. Volunteer visit, which used to be called demystification and is still popularly referred to as “de-miss” by volunteers, is the part of training where we finally get to see where and how we will be living for the next two years. Why the official name is no longer demystification became apparent after the first day.
To be fair, I did leave Kolda with a MUCH clearer idea of what my future looks like. Saré Pathé Bouya is beautiful, with a huge “tree of life” at the center. I will be living in the chief’s compound, which is surprisingly one of the smaller, quieter compounds I saw. My hut is not quite finished, but is well on the way to being a lovely little home. It’s a concrete square with a thatched roof and I will have a backyard with my own pit latrine, shower area and shade structure under a mango tree. In the two days that I was able to visit my village I got to meet my host parents, my counterparts and my namesake – Naafi Mane - all of whom seem wonderful. Demystification accomplished.
Sort of. As much as I learned about my future life as Naafi Mane, demiss really highlighted how little I know about the work I’ll be doing, about the language I’ll be speaking, and about the people I’ll be living with. In fact I’d say I that I was pretty thoroughly mystified watching my host, Amanda chat away in Mandinka and carry herself with all the confidence of a successfully integrated volunteer while I sat quietly and smiled.
At the end of my second visit to Saré Pathé my host dad presented Amanda and me with a rooster to take home to her village. As he flapped around on the ground with legs tied Amanda took the opportunity to explain to all present that a chicken in this state is quite easily hypnotized by simply drawing a line in front of its field of vision. My host family was as impressed with the demonstration as I was and the trick was put to good use on our bike ride back to her village. During a quick water break Boubacar the Rooster decided to flap off of Amanda’s handlebars and take off rather clumsily into the bush. I held the bikes as Amanda went after the flailing Boubacar (who seemed all too aware of his pending fate). “Quick! Draw a line in the sand!” I yelled. And sure enough, his panic subsided long enough for her to grab him by the legs and get him back on her handlebars, where he continued to periodically fuss and flap until we got back to her compound and ate him.
This incident, in addition to being hilarious, has also come to represent the de-miss experience for me. Like the rooster, I had my moments of panic – when my language skills fell flat, when the reality of being the only American set in, when I had glimpses of the trials of village life, loneliness, boredom and the daunting task of implementing lasting change. Flap flap flapppp flap flapflapflap!
And then someone would draw a line in the sand - hiking into the bush to collect wild honey comb in the moonlight (probably the richest, most delicious honey I’ve ever tasted), eating cashew apples fresh off the trees, getting into the rhythm of village greetings, watching Amanda joke with her siblings, the exuberance of my namesake. Everyday there was something that got me flapping a little bit, something else that calmed me down completely, and the rest of the time I was just taking in the sights, bouncing along quietly on Amanda’s handlebars. So to speak.
To be fair, I did leave Kolda with a MUCH clearer idea of what my future looks like. Saré Pathé Bouya is beautiful, with a huge “tree of life” at the center. I will be living in the chief’s compound, which is surprisingly one of the smaller, quieter compounds I saw. My hut is not quite finished, but is well on the way to being a lovely little home. It’s a concrete square with a thatched roof and I will have a backyard with my own pit latrine, shower area and shade structure under a mango tree. In the two days that I was able to visit my village I got to meet my host parents, my counterparts and my namesake – Naafi Mane - all of whom seem wonderful. Demystification accomplished.
Sort of. As much as I learned about my future life as Naafi Mane, demiss really highlighted how little I know about the work I’ll be doing, about the language I’ll be speaking, and about the people I’ll be living with. In fact I’d say I that I was pretty thoroughly mystified watching my host, Amanda chat away in Mandinka and carry herself with all the confidence of a successfully integrated volunteer while I sat quietly and smiled.
At the end of my second visit to Saré Pathé my host dad presented Amanda and me with a rooster to take home to her village. As he flapped around on the ground with legs tied Amanda took the opportunity to explain to all present that a chicken in this state is quite easily hypnotized by simply drawing a line in front of its field of vision. My host family was as impressed with the demonstration as I was and the trick was put to good use on our bike ride back to her village. During a quick water break Boubacar the Rooster decided to flap off of Amanda’s handlebars and take off rather clumsily into the bush. I held the bikes as Amanda went after the flailing Boubacar (who seemed all too aware of his pending fate). “Quick! Draw a line in the sand!” I yelled. And sure enough, his panic subsided long enough for her to grab him by the legs and get him back on her handlebars, where he continued to periodically fuss and flap until we got back to her compound and ate him.
This incident, in addition to being hilarious, has also come to represent the de-miss experience for me. Like the rooster, I had my moments of panic – when my language skills fell flat, when the reality of being the only American set in, when I had glimpses of the trials of village life, loneliness, boredom and the daunting task of implementing lasting change. Flap flap flapppp flap flapflapflap!
And then someone would draw a line in the sand - hiking into the bush to collect wild honey comb in the moonlight (probably the richest, most delicious honey I’ve ever tasted), eating cashew apples fresh off the trees, getting into the rhythm of village greetings, watching Amanda joke with her siblings, the exuberance of my namesake. Everyday there was something that got me flapping a little bit, something else that calmed me down completely, and the rest of the time I was just taking in the sights, bouncing along quietly on Amanda’s handlebars. So to speak.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Saré Paté BOUYA!
This afternoon I found out that starting in May I'll be spending the next two years living in the region of Kolda and I couldn't be happier! Kolda is part of the Casamance region of southern Senegal, one of the greener, wetter regions of the country... and hot. Mangoes. 'nuff said.
Saré Paté Bouya is a village of around 500 people, 7 km from the road town of Mampatim and my closest volunteer neighbor. There are quite a few volunteers within good biking distance, and while it might be tough sometimes to be a little island of Mandinka, I'm really excited about all my Pulaar neighbors.
Oddly enough (or simply indicative of my amazing psychic abilities), the girl I'll be replacing as the area's Mandinka health volunteer is the same girl whose blog I read just before coming to Senegal, with the thought that it seemed representative of my imagined Peace Corps experience. I won't be living in her village, but will be nearby and I'll be staying with her for my volunteer visit next week. I can't wait! Kolda or bust.
Saré Paté Bouya is a village of around 500 people, 7 km from the road town of Mampatim and my closest volunteer neighbor. There are quite a few volunteers within good biking distance, and while it might be tough sometimes to be a little island of Mandinka, I'm really excited about all my Pulaar neighbors.
Oddly enough (or simply indicative of my amazing psychic abilities), the girl I'll be replacing as the area's Mandinka health volunteer is the same girl whose blog I read just before coming to Senegal, with the thought that it seemed representative of my imagined Peace Corps experience. I won't be living in her village, but will be nearby and I'll be staying with her for my volunteer visit next week. I can't wait! Kolda or bust.
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