How does your garden grow?

Some of the major challenges facing Senegal involve malnutrition, degradation, soil degradation, unsanitary drinking water, diseases, food shortages, and others. One simple and local way to address many of these problems is through proper gardening. Utilizing the right plants and trees and possessing the basic knowledge for gardening can have sizable impacts on an individual’s and community’s well-being. For this reason, Peace Corps has been giving us the 101 of gardening for Senegal.

With my language group in Tassette, we made a plan to start a garden at the local primary school. We met with the principal / director of the school, sat down and discussed our expectations, and went around to every classroom and introduced ourselves. That same day, we pick out a plot of land for our multiple beds and tree nursery. We began the “double digging” process, found some good manure to mix into our soil, and prepared our beds for seeding and/or transplants. It was insane! The entire primary school wanted to participate and we had only about 2 hours of Wolof training at that point. A couple days into our project we realized that garden happened to be accumulating a lot of trash and little people footprints. A week into our project, the building that we started one of beds next too began to be torn down. Yep, a school actually fell on our garden. Curiously, the director did not inform us that the building next to our garden was going to be toppling on it the next week.

Amul jafe jafe. (No problem). We moved that bed and built a fence around the perimeter of our garden, so now it actually looks a little bit legitimate. We water it every day, but I don’t know what the prospect for germination is since we are not in the rainy season. The hype of “toubaabs” in the school has worn off a little bit, so our numbers have diminished and it’s mostly kids that actually want to help out. This week, our spirits were lifted when we saw our Moringa seeds germinating as well as the beans we planted. It’s a crapshoot, but the ends could actually end up justifying the means.

Our somewhat legitimate garden.

Wolof 101

“Wolof lay jang, ndank, ndank.” This translates to “I learn Wolof slowly”. My language training group says this phrase so often that one of our families actually made a song out of it. I’ve been learning to speak Wolof for three weeks, and I am recalling how frustrating it is to learn a language from scratch. It’s not that I feel like our language group isn’t progressing fast enough (because we’ve come a long way in three weeks), but rather, how nice it would be to be able to maturely express myself. It would be nice to able to speak like I actually went to college instead of only having the vocabulary of an 8 year old. Wolof is not a written language, but the most commonly spoken language in Senegal. In fact, it’s pretty much only spoken in Senegal. Communication is so critical for being effective in any endeavor, both in day-to-day activities and conducting successful project, which is why I really want to learn Wolof well.

In general, it is a pretty fun language to learn and apparently the easiest to learn among all the other local languages spoken in Senegal (Pulaar, Fulakunda, Pulafuta, Sereer, Mandinka, Jaxase). I feel like once the basics are mastered, than the rest should come fairly easily. Wolofs are generally pretty expressive and loud, which makes learning the language pretty fun. Greetings seem to take forever (both in Wolof and Senegal in general). Here is a sample greeting to someone you would just run into on the street:

A: Asalaa maalekum Peace be with you
B: Maalekum Salaam Peace be with you
A: Nanga def? How are you?
B: Maangi fi rekk. Yaangiy fi? I’m here/ fine. Are you fine?
A: Woow. Maangi fi rekk. Yes, I’m fine.
B: Ca va? How are you (in French)?
A: Oui, ca va. Yes, I’m fine.
B: Naka sa duguda? What’s up? (Informal)
A: Maangi dala. Naka waa ker gi? Not much. How’s your family?
B: Nungi fi. They are fine.
A: Naka sa yaay? How is your mother?
B: Mungi fi. She is fine.
A: Ak sa pape? And your father?
B. Woow, mungi fi. Jamm nga fanaane? Yes, he is fine. Did you spend the night in Peace?
A. Jamm rekk. Naka suba si? Peace only. How is your morning?
B. Jamm rekk. Peace only.
A. Naka tangaay wi? How is the heat?
B. Woow. Dafa tang! Yes. It’s hot!
A: Yaangiy noos? Are you having fun?
B. Maangiy noos tutti rekk. I’m having a little bit of fun.

It can go on, but you get the point. Often times, people will just spit out these phrases over each other without actually taking the time to listen to what the other one is saying. It’s quite humorous. Wolof also has a lack of words / phrases like “bon appetite”, “good luck”, “that’s interesting”, “safe travels”, but they have a verb “to pick lice out of one’s hair” (teenn) and a verb “to go to the tailor to get clothes made” (nnawlu). Also, to say, “it’s been a long time since I’ve…” all you have to say is “gej naa…” Sometimes, learning the language isn’t so bad and then there are days when your brain cannot function and speaking and hearing Wolof is the hardest thing in the world. I am really looking forward to the day where I feel like I can actually function quite decently in Senegal with my Wolof.

Amul jafe jafe – No problem!

Me with my LCF (Wolof teacher) in our usual "classroom" setting.

Peace Corps Senegal

I know I’m little late in getting a blog started for Peace Corps, but I figured better late than never. I’ve already been in Senegal as a Peace Corps Trainee for one month. It feels like I’ve been here so much longer. My lifestyle and knowledge is incomparable to where I was one month ago. I have favorite Senegalese dishes and know how to tell someone that I can’t marry him because he is too ugly in Wolof. My favorite soda is now Fanta and I crave homemade yogurt like it’s going out of style. I’ve gotten lost in a taxi and have also successfully navigated a taxi around Thiès. I’ve successfully made a mud stove, but still don’t know how cook.

For those that are unfamiliar with exactly what I’m doing in Senegal, here is a brief overview of Peace Corps in Senegal and the sector I’m working in of Environmental Education. For the next 27 months, I will be living, working, and training as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Senegal. Peace Corps was started under the Kennedy administration in 1961. Since then, Peace Corps has served in 139 different countries. Peace Corps’ presence in Senegal dates back to 1963. The three primary goals of Peace Corps are:

1) To help the people of developing countries meet their basic needs

2) To promote a better understanding of the American people abroad

3) To promote a better understanding of other cultures to the American people

Peace Corps’ approach to development is at the grassroots level and involves complete immersion on the part of the Peace Corps Volunteer. Volunteers are expected to be proficient in the language of the population they are working with as well as knowledgeable in the culture and customs of the people they are serving. I’m required to learn Wolof in order to serve my population. Peace Corps work is divided into sectors that range from business development to education. I am serving the sector of Environmental Education and Preventative Health. The major goals for EE/Health Volunteers are:

1) To improve the environmental health of our community
Ex: trash management, health assessments, reforestation, clean water

2) To improve the nutritional status of community members
Ex: gardens and moringa leaves production, nutritional education, child nutrition

3) To Improve the health of vulnerable groups (Children, babies, and pregnant women)
Ex: Malaria control, diarrhea control, immunizations, maternal health, reproductive health

4) To improve environmental education
Ex: training of teachers and “Eco schools”

These all sound very vague right now, but we are receiving more specific technical training. Also, most of the work that PCVs do is completely contingent on the needs of the community they are serving. All projects should have ownership within the community in order to promote sustainability. Communities have varying needs, so the vast majority of the work of a PCV is determined after spending a couple months observing, discussing, and evaluating the needs of the community.

Even though I am an Environmental Education Volunteer, I am not restricted to working solely on projects within my project plan. Peace Corps Volunteers also do work outside their primary sector of development. These are called secondary projects and volunteers can get as creative with these projects as they want. Many secondary projects involve gender and development work, such as starting a girls’ club or incorporating gender and development work into their own projects and daily life. Volunteers are allowed to take any special skill or interest from back home and figure out a way to incorporate into their work. Like primary projects, secondary projects are determined by how receptive the community is to the project and if it is something the community desires. With secondary projects, the sky is the limit!

With that being said, I’d going to cover the general format of my Peace Corps service. For the first 2 ½ months, I am a Peace Corps Trainee, along with the 39 other trainees in my stage. During our training, we study language, culture, and technical skills that are necessary to serve as a PCV. Thiès is where our training center is located. However, we spent a lot of time in nearby villages (called Culture Based Training or CBT sites) staying with host families. This is in order to completely immerse ourselves in language and culture. My CBT site is a village called Tassette. It is about a half an hour outside of Thiès with a population of about 2,000. I speak Wolof and French with my host family, though I’m trying to just speak Wolof, since that is language I am learning. We will also have a “Volunteer Visit” during our training, in which, we visit and stay with a volunteer currently serving at or near our prospective sites, where we will be for two years after training. The swearing-in ceremony to become an official PCV for my stage is May 14^th in Dakar.

Learning how to make tree nurseries at the Peace Corps Training Center in Thies.

le chefferie!!

Sometimes its good to be le chef (chief) and sometimes its even better to be the chef's guests. The last couple days I have been staying in a traditional rural Cameroonian setting as the guest of the chief of Meteu, just outside of Dschang. I stayed with one other student, Hannah, and we discovered that live au village is quite different from life en ville.

When we first arrived we witnessed a number of small children running around and a couple women. Since many chefs display their power by the number of wives they have, we were curious of actually how many of the women were his wives. It took a while to figure out that he only had two wives and the first one was actually somewhere else at the time, but was good friends with the second wife. Many of the small children running around where actually one of the chef's younger brother's kids but were just chillin au village for the time while papa was working en ville. After we had our first meal of eggs, peppers, fish, onions, and a pound of palm oil along with king sized '33s' -- a Cameroonian beer, Hannah and I went off exploring about the village. It wasn't long until we ran into Norbert, the chef's younger brother, who was incredibly enthusiastic to show us around. We thought he was just going to direct us to the school and things to see, but instead he walked us to the local boutiques where he bought a bottle of Rafia -- the white palm Cameroonian wine, which I was not a fan of the first time I tried it -- and a bottle of Guinness. Together, this mixture is quite tasty, so tasty that we drank it all and had to stop and have another bottle before arriving back to the chefferie two hours later. We also witnessed Norbert bargain for a giant rat, that he carried around by the tail as he tried to convince us that you could walk to Nigeria in a day (completely not true) and we took our little tour of the village. I believe he ate the rat for dinner later that night. By the time we got back to the chefferie Hannah and I were pretty full from all the beer, wine, and eggs and yet it happened to be time for lunch aka -- burn my mouth off with a pepper sauce served on fish and rice. The chef told us its better to just eat it really fast and the burning doesn't last as long ---- riiiiiiight.

Later on our 'sisters' -- other SIT students -- who lived not far from us came to visit with their chef, who turned out to have an amusing Hitler moustache, a slight lisp, and narcolepsy. It was nice to see some familiar faces again. It turned out that our chefs were really good friends so they took us to see Mami Wata – the famous waterfall in Fongo-Tongo, a funeral / party in a neighbouring village, and our chef invited them to a Tatine/dance party one night. A Tatine is the most traditional way of ‘banking’ in the village. Everyone month x many members of the Tatine give a sum of money and then they auction the pot off. The night finishes with music and dancing to wish their brother good luck and prosperity with his earnings. The men play traditional instruments of drums and rattles while the women dance around. Naturally, the four white girls were pulled into dancing and everyone got a pretty good kick out our phenomenal moves.

Our last day we were treated with a feast of ‘le lapin avec les pommes de terre’ – Rabbit and potatoes. Our chef raised rabbit and they are really expensive for the area, so it was an amazing gesture; although I could have gone without seeing the bunny before we ate it. It tastes just like chicken, only more tender and quite chewy. Later, we made plantain chips with our host mother and were each sent home with a large bag full of them mmmmmm…… Upon departing the sweet grandmother of the chefferie, who only speaks Yambe and mainly spent the week laughing at us, gave us a couple yams to take back – kinda gross, but still nice.

In a few days we will depart on our grand voyage up north. Hopefully, I’ll be able to keep you posted. Thinking of you all the time. Much love from Africa!

Je tombe souvant dans la boue -- I often fall in the mud

It’s been a while since I’ve last written, but hopefully I can make up for it with some photos. We have one week left in Dschang with our host families until we embark on our "grand voyage". From there, we will be traveling up north and to the south, one more short host family stay in Ngaoundere for three weeks, and then our ISP (Independent Study Project) for the last four week of the program. That means that after next week my internet access will be even more limited, so my apologies in advance for neglecting the blog.

This weekend we went to Bamenda, a city located in one of the Anglophone provinces. Ahh, speaking English again was such a relief—even though we still had to somewhat translate into our English. Bamenda is known for its beautiful cloths used to make clothes, but it is necessary to know how to bargain before you throw yourself into the chaos of the market. Friday afternoon we had a crash course in Pidgin – which is just a really odd spin off of English mixed in with other native languages.
I be scoopyking -- translates: I am a student
How for you? / How now? -- translates: How are you today?
Who side you come out? -- translates:
Where are you from? I di chop – translates: I am eating
How much di cost dis rapa -- translates: How much does this cost?

We also visited the palace of the Bafut village, which was constructed by their German colonizers in the 1880s, witnessed of one the traditional initiation male dances, and met the Fondu – the superior chief, who has over 40 wives. The Fondu sat perched upon the large stoop of the oldest sacred building in Cameroon in his traditional tribal garments. It was a world completely about upholding tradition and respecting protocol that seemed almost untouched by the industrious world… that is until we saw a huge satellite dish in the middle of one of the court yard and the Fondu’s cell phone went off and we were reminded of the western world influence. He he he.

It still rains all the time, which explains why I often fall in the mud and my taste buds are being exposed to new phenomenons all the time, like macabo with fried “plums”. We had cous cous again last night but this time it was accompanied with another fish based concoction of over 22 ingredients called nkui. Our diners have been rather interesting this week because of the power shortage every night. Sometimes the electricity goes out around six or seven at night and lasts all night. Thus, all our diners this night have been eaten by candlelight and after diner my host siblings and I cram around a candle to finish our homework. My host father told that it is the fault of importing American businesses because of the privatisation of the electric companies, which is be true; however, I think some of it has to do the rain season. The real problem is that Cameroun has the resources to supply their own energy with all the waterfalls and potential dams in the country, however there is no money to develop the technology needed to created electricity from their own resources. Basically, the majority of the fault goes to the government corruption and poor dispersement of funds and aid from abroad. Aside from Boris, my four year old host brother, throwing a slight fit, the nights turn out to be alright and since I couldn’t do all of my homework, I get to go to bed early. C’est la vie.

This weekend I volunteered myself to make breakfast for the family Sunday morning, so I am whipping out my specialty of french toast. Its simple enough for my cuisine skills and I know I can find all the ingredients. I wanted to make pizza because my host sister asks me about it all the time, but I don't think that the cheese that exists here is pizza suitable. Also, cheese is very expensive.

These first couple photos are from our first week in the village of Fongo-Tongo, which is just outside of Dschang, where we’ve been attending school. We spent one afternoon visiting the famous “chute” of Mammy Water, one of the most sacred waterfalls in the region. We were able to hike down to the base of the waterfall but it was too misty to get any clear photos, so this one is taken from above. The other photos are taken in Dschang. Whenever I take out my camera with children around they always yell, “filmez-moi, filmez-moi” (film me). When this first occurred I was quite confused because I thought they were saying “fumez-moi”, which means smoke cigarettes. Thus, one of the photos is three of the four children in my host family along with some other neighborhood kids out front of our house. One photo is me being caught in the rain on my walk home one night…. you can witness the deluge I had to battle along with my gigantic hill that I often slip climbing down, while the neighborhood children pass me by giggling. I also have a photo with my host brothers and sisters. Since I am pretty computer illiterate, I'm not sure how they will turn out, but nous allons voir ..... Enjoy!!

*****Sorry, I couldn't get the photos to upload .... I am afraid you will have to wait until I get home.*****

Cous Cous anyone?!

When I was studying in France last semester I absolutely fell in love with cous cous. Its texture, color, adaptability with go with practically anything, and that fact you can always come back for more just amazed me. So, when I heard that we were having cous cous last night for dinner you can imagine how excited I was, however even things that you think are familiar to you are indeed quite different.

After conquering my calf-burning hill last night, I arrived home. I’ve been trying to make an effort to make myself more accessible and useful around the house by volunteering to wash the dishes, buying bread in the morning, setting the table, and helping out with diner. I entered our kitchen last night hoping to find some minimal task to do that my host mother would probably have to explain to me in great detail. I was disappointed to discover that diner was already ready (I had returned home last since class ran late), but elated to find out that we were having cous cous. Finally a food I recognized and I know I could eat. I lifted the pan to observe the rice-like entrée, but only to find our usual “yellow yams”. My mother laughed and lifted the lid of orange plastic bucket that held individual baggies of a gelatine-like corn-based blob. My four siblings and mother could have obviously seen the look of bafflement on my face as they all giggled to themselves. Since diner was already ready I offered to set the table and reach for the forks. “Non” my mother laughed, “We use our hands, but you can use a fork.” As if I wasn’t quite ready for the cous cous cultural emersion – baby steps are necessary.

We sat down to diner and my host mama dished up a couple scoops of “Gumbo” in each our our bowls. It was an interesting concoction of actual ground up gumbo – which is a green pepperish plant with a little bit of a kick – meat – still not quite sure of what kind – various veggies, and something that makes it into a brown slimy sauce. I waited for the others to start eating to observe their technique, which involves tearing off a chunk of the blob and circular scooping/dipping motion in the bowl of gumbo. After a couple tries with my hands I gave in and took up the comfort of using my fork. It actually turned out to be pretty good and by the end of the meal, I would say that I have graduated the novice class cous cous scooping. My host papa shared stories of growing up on cous cous with his nine other siblings. There are a ton of different sauces one can make to accompany the cous cous. Apparently up north, which is where we will be travelling to later, cous cous is its own food group. Therefore, I anticipate plenty more cous cous adventures to come.

Thanks for those who wrote to me. I really love hearing from back home. Every chance I get I’ll try to give you my brief Cameroon update, but the internet accessibility is pretty scarce here. I miss you and love you all!!!!

Patience is a Virtue

Curiosity, anxiety, dumb-fondness, awe-struck, humble, guilt, confusion, frustration, happiness.

I've been in Cameroon over a week now, and I feel as if I've learned more lessons than in a lifetime. Who could have thought that one could feel so many things in such a short period of time? My head is spinning and its just the beginning. We’ve seen and experienced so many things already that are completely out of our realm – its difficult to find somewhere to start.

The first and most important lesson I’ve learned so far is that patience is a virtue. That was the first thing Christaine, our amazing program director, told us when she greeted us in the airport in Douala. We practiced major patience when three students had some lost luggage – mine included – and we circled around the airport to wait in line to talk to someone from Air France only to be send back to where we were before to wait in line again. I discovered that customer service doesn’t exactly exist abroad as it does in the states and the most you can get is a small toiletry bag including a toothbrush, deodorant, a hair brush, and an oversized white t-shirt sporting the Air France logo on the sleeve.

We stayed at a mission the first night and the next morning headed out early for the city of Dschang, located in the southwest. On the map it really doesn’t look that far away, but in a 15 passenger van packed “Cameroonian style” on a Cameroonian road during rain season it took about five hours. It was a good icebreaker for the group of fourteen girls and one boy from all over the States. The best part of our voyage was the trip up to Fongo-Tongo, a village outside of Dschang, where we spent our first week of orientation. Once the rain hit, there was little hope for our van to make it up the muddy red clay hills without the group effort of pushing the van. Sigh. Good times caked in mud!

Our ride from Douala we witnessed a vast and diverse landscape of tropical rainforests and highlands. We were stopped many times by government officials on the road -- in which case the local men, women, and children would attempt to sell us fruits, veggies, and peanuts through the windows. We spent the first week in an isolated structured camp like setting in the immensely spread out village of Fongo-Tongo. There was a building with 15 bed for the students to pitch their mosquito nets and sleeping bags. Since my mosquito net was lost along with my other stuff for the first week, I got to snuggle up with one of the girls each night (a good way to meet someone for the first time … he he he). Besides our sessions on safety and health we went hiking into the clouds one afternoon and for a moment of clearly got to see how beautiful Cameroon really is. We also visited a waterfall by having quite the adventure on the truck ride there and a nice hike through the scared rainforest to the base. Our last night in Fongo Tongo the community held a “cultural soiree” for us where we met the head chief of the village and learned a couple African dance moves. Quite the night and some really fun pics. (If I figure out a way to upload them I will)

We met and moved into our host families in Dschang Saturday night and had the whole day Sunday with them. For me, this experience was more difficult than I expected. My family is incredibly sweet and has four small children, but it was difficult for me to understand my role in the family. Should I act as a guest, sibling, student? Is it ok for me to go out? Everyone seems to do their own thing and I wasn’t quite sure where I belonged. Most the time, the children go unsupervised in the streets and the house. Should I act as a baby sitter? As an American I am use to things happening all the time and conversation as well, but here its normal to sit in silence with your family as a sign of respect and exercise a different type of independence. At that point, I still didn’t have my clothes (besides what I had borrowed from the other girls) and I needed to wash what I had. I learned how to wash my clothes by hand and the other kids got a really good kick out of it. One of the most challenging things I faced was when my host sister, who is nine, and I were washing the dishes and she asked if I had a machine for washing dishes like my clothes, of course I had to say yes. She told me that I have everything where I am from and to look around and see that they have nothing. I tried to explain to her that machines and things don’t necessarily equal happiness, but it was difficult for me to explain.

As the days go on, I am becoming more and more comfortable with Dschang, class, and my family. We started classes this week which definitely give me something to focus on besides the overwhelming feeling of the culture shock. Every day and every new incident is a learning expericence. I have tons more to say, but I’m afraid I am going to have to sign off for now. It raining – like usual – and I have a huge hill to get down (hopefully not on my butt) in 30 mins for less. Love you and miss you all. À bientot!!

Spread Your Wings and Fly

Here we go. The last moments of hectic preparations, the continuous revamping of my to-do list, my nail-biting anxiety, and farewell hugs and kisses have arrived. I've spent almost a year of dreaming and planning of this moment, but for some reason I never thought it would come so fast. Sunday morning I will embark on a new journey of my life as I begin my semester abroad in Cameroon, Africa.

With the guidance of my lovely friend, Chelsea, I have decided to keep an online diary of my experiences in Cameroon. I'm not gonna lie to you though, I'm a little nervous about keep this up to date, as Molly can testify that my journal entries in France dwindled to nothing after the first two months. Also, unlike some absolutely amazing people I know, I am not one that can write so wittily and freely. So, let's all keep an open mind, aye?

Cameroon, located in central western Africa, is a country with a little bit of everything. About the size of California, the country consists of everything between tropical rainforests to semi-deserts. Population of 16.5 million, it is home to about 250 different ethnic groups and languages with colonial heritages of German, British, and French. Today, the national language is French with English spoken in the north. While I am in Cameroon, I will continue my French language studies as well as receive a crash course in Fulfulde, a popular language spoken in the north. I am studying with a program called SIT (Study of International Training), a graduate school located in Vermont, with fourteen other students from universities and colleges across the United States. The theme of our program is Culture and Development. Not only will I be taking courses about the development, music, language, geography, history, culture, and politics of Cameroon, I will be experiencing it all as we travel about the country and stay with host families.

As the weeks have wound down to days and the days to hours, I am looking forward to an experience unlike any other and, at the same time, without turning my back to my amazing friends and family I have back at home. Though I know most of you think I am crazy, I truly love and appreciate all of you and your support this summer and in my life.