This just in...

I just spent 18,000F CFA (almost $40) and an hour and a half getting the perfect dress for new-year’s eve. Do I regret any of this? Only a tiiiiny bit. It would be good if I were better at saving my money and not spending it. But, hey, I’m stimulating the economy. And I was assured that a tourist who Doesn’t come back to the same boutique after an hour and half and laugh and chat with the same salesman in his native language would have been charged 28,000F CFA. Plus, it’s a great dress and I’ve had my eye on it for over awhile actually. But here’s the great part of the story:

While looking I went to a boutique I’ve only been in once before, with my parents when they were here. It was a one room place with just a few racks. They’ve expanded to over twice the size, with a fabulous collection of women’s, men’s and kids clothes and home furnishings. Here’s the problem with all these boutiques: great fabric, great clean lines and stylish design, but there’s Very limited sizing, and the clothes are all meant to be baggy! I know, there’s a place for that, but it’s not new years eve. And every store? Come on. Okay, back to the point. It’s owned by a French woman, but the salesman was a lovely Sereer guy who speaks perfect Wolof. And we conversed. Like, naturally, fluidly, talked and laughed. Come to find out, it’s a fair-trade operation that works with ten villages in the Diourbel region. The local proceeds go to building forages (think clean water from running taps) and heath posts (basic doctor’s offices in the bush). I was already a touch high from just running around “shopping” and chatting with a bunch of shopkeepers (a good Wolof day get’s me a bit high), and when he told me all that, I kind of lost it. Like, almost started crying, but laughed long and loud instead. I told him, “you don’t understand that’s my dream!” Well, it’s definitely one of them. “And you guys already did it! What should I do now?” He very rationally pointed out that it’s only ten villages. So I continued looking, but like I said, it was all baggy, not what I need for tomorrow. And when I left I realized I wasn’t really sold on that idea.

Here’s the thing. Yeah, it’s doing good things. But is it encouraging local culture? Did the local artisans say, "hey let's build a forage with this money!" Is it teaching any of the local artisans anything about taking development or even business management into their OWN hands? Maybe it is, and that would be great, but in theory not a smart “business” move as it would eventually make the French woman unnecessary (she wasn’t particularly kind about my inability to get my mouth to make words in her language. But hey, it’s not her country, right?) Also, maybe it’s doing good things for the source communities, but it’s doing so within the context of the “consumerism is good” mentality. I think I’ve heard something in economic theory about increased consuming being good to increase the middle class, and thereby increase economic stability for the whole country. But, this just seems so old-hat to me. “Lord knows, there’s got to be a better way.” What song is that from? Sure within a business model, if you look at national economies like different businesses, it’s good to get the little guys to play the big guys’ game and get some redistribution of wealth the process. I’m all for that, in theory. But can’t we be working for something better? I think we need a gamechanger. But I don’t know what it is. 2012, any suggestions?

This literally JUST happened. So, I’m sure I’ll be milling it over for the next while. Plus, if I did a boutique like that we’d have cuter clothes in a wider variety of sizes. And we’d be super nice to people who only speak Wolof. Or even only speak Dutch, though we’d have a hard time talking to them…

First let me say: cold season, WTF?? Sorry to use that language. My skin is PARCHED, I’m starting to wake up chilled under my SLEEPING BAG, it’s almost impossible to shower, and people are going to bed early to escape the cold. Just when I adjust… Anyway, there are some serious positives to this. Like, mostly it’s positive. Curling up in bed under a sleeping bag is like… o******c (awesome). Hot coffee, wonderful. Sweater and scarf (THANKS JOSIE!!!!), yes please. Doing yoga again makes sweating feel like a gift. Lower electricity bill. MUCH fewer bugs. Gardening has become a possibility in my mind, because being in the sunshine doesn’t feel like death anymore. So, yeah, yay for cold season! But, just for a point of reference, last time I went to Saint-Louis I showed up in the AM in a sweater and scarf. By noon I pulled the sweater off, checked the temp online, and saw that it was 86 degrees…

Here’s something I know you guys want to know about: WORK! Things are starting to move. At least one of you (thanks Zach) wants to hear more about the library opening. Well, it was an amazing event. Have I mentioned how much I adore kids? Here’s a cultural difference for you: In school here, when the teacher calls out for an answer from the class, everyone responds. Even if they don’t know the answer, it’s better to appear ready to participate than to not respond. So, when trying to do anything with the kids, everything is like a bum-rush. Which is … overwhelming… but awesome. Thankfully Madame Fadima Fall is not only an awesome work partner for this project, but has become a good friend. The teachers are authority figures. Me, not so much, though they get a kick out of it when I put on my “I’m serious!” face. Well, so the opening day was two weeks ago now. I read a book to the kids, Madame Fall laid out a whole plan for management of the library, featuring one representative per class to keep records of the lending, and then it was a free-for-all. Everyone wanted a book, and everyone scrambled to get one. I ended up on sentry duty making sure no one took a book out without having their name written in the notebook, and standing on the front porch pulling one after another of the small kids up from the ground to the 2.5 foot high step. Over and over and over. Bonding. Sweet, fun, exhausting.

So, we’re still going on the library. I made a set of library cards for the kids that will hopefully be an effective record-keeping system. We’re encouraging the kids to write a simple book report for each book they read, and encouraging them to do so with the promise of gifts. Amazingly, Madame Fall has a partner school in the states who sent her a whole big Rubbermaid Tupperware full of American notebooks, ruler, scissors, crayola markers and crayons, Elmer’s glue. So, perfect gifts there. Hopeful that this will encourage literacy in the younger generations and nurture a passion to read.

I’ve also just gotten started working with the women’s group to re-start their garden (I was repeatedly told to wait until the work in the rainy-season fields was over.) So, we all gathered there the other night to clear the land, get rid of all the dried tall grasses. It was amazing fun watching the women work, tease each other, laugh, and work along-side them playing in the dirt-I mean sand. After we got about half-way across the field digging and raking, someone was like, “Hey, let’s just set it on fire!” Well, I wasn’t so into the idea… not sure environmentally friendly… but it was one against about 40. So, we cleared a three foot path on all sides of what was left, and then lit it up. So, imagine a rectangle of dry brush, enclosed on three sides by a wire fence. Now, the leader of the women’s group grabbed some burning brush and started walking down one side, into the fenced in area. So, by the time she got to the first back corner, the fire had spread half way across the front end. There was a lot of shouting and laughing as her face turned to amused shock and she broke into a run to get out the other side before getting trapped in there. We slowly exited the fenced area and stood downwind of the fire to watch it burn. Oh my, my, my. Here’s a chance for a sensibilization waaxtaan (an educational conversation).

Good stuff. Buying seeds today before heading home, hopefully getting it all planted in the immediate future. Then just watering and watching it grow.

In personal matters, I’ve been here for nine and half months. Which just… is unbelievable to me. But I’m already having trouble distinguishing between stuff that I’m long-term habituated to (like, before I got here), and what’s really uniquely Senegalese and would be new to any of you who haven’t lived here. Yesterday I told my family about making Fattaya in village and was genuinely shocked for a second that they didn’t know what I was talking about. (It’s a fish-filled fried dumpling with onion sauce. Yum). But, frankly I now recall my first glimpse of fattaya in Mboro… Even names here, I can’t distinguish between which ones are new to my life here and which ones I knew in the states. Did I really never know a Seynabou or a Fatou before I got here? Really? And my sense of style… well, I’ve always been willing to be a little off-beat on that one, but the color here was once kind of “WOW” almost overwhelming to me, in an enchanting way. And now it’s all just the norm. So, hmm. ::shrug:: not much to say there, just interesting. I still love blue-jeans like nothing else, and frankly thing the young men here look better in them than traditional Senegalese pants. So, that’s not new.

Yesterday was Christmas. Had a lovely pizza dinner with friends, skyped for a long time with my family in the states, mostly my dad, but otherwise it was just another day in Saint-Louis. I almost wanted to grab people on the streets and be like, “Why aren’t you celebrating? It’s Jesus’ birthday!!” But, that’s irrational…

Everything is lovely. I kinda like it here… If only there were free teleporters so I could be here AND be close to my family and other loved ones in the states…

Best cake ever, best day ever (Forgive the superlatives. I'm just in love with my life.)

I guess I’ll start with Thanksgiving, since it was the first major holiday I’ve celebrated away from family. Frankly, the weather is largely so non-American-November-ish it doesn’t feel like it could possibly be the date it claims to be (tomorrow is December!!) Also, without cardboard turkeys in pilgrim hats and shiny shoes with buckles posted in the boutique windows, … I just never got super geared up for it. Also, right before Thanksgiving I spent nearly a month in village. So rather than going to Ndiom for the big Peace Corps volunteer celebration, I opted to stay in the then vacant Saint-Louis apartment for some mostly solitary noppalu. I ascended and slept ‘til I could stop falling asleep every time, then did some more. I crocheted and ate yummy breakfast bean sandwiches. For the day of Thanksgiving I cooked scrambled eggs with Lots of zucchini, green pepper, onion, tomato, and Edam cheese (a break from Ementhal…) which I ate with a friend Senegalese style—tear off bits of bread to grab some yummies. The next day, four of us tried to make a real miniature version of Thanksgiving dinner. I cooked an incredibly yummy (and unhealthy) Tropical dump cake:

1 20 oz can of pineapple in syrup
4 large bananas
1 6(ish) oz can of coconut milk
1 cup of almonds (hey, lots is good, and pecans are probably better)
2 sticks of butter, and…

Cake Mix:
1.5 cups flour
1 cup sugar
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt

Put the fruit and coco milk in the bottom of a pan. Put all the cake mix on top, spread as evenly as possible. Cover with the butter all cut up into slices. Add nuts. Lots and lots of nuts.

Bake at 350 degrees for one hour. YUM!

We were each in charge of one dish, essentially, so there was squash-roll dough rising while patas (a white sweet potato) was cooking on the stove to go in a delicious looking casserole involving apples, raisins, honey and cinnamon, and then the gas ran out. At this point me and another volunteer were on a run to the fast-food restaurant to get a chicken, so we searched for boutiques with gas (not easy to find, especially at 7 PM). We found some, but it (of course, thank you Senegal) did not fit the attachment we had at the apartment. BUT, when we opened the chicken bag, there was bread, and a small mixed salad, and the chicken itself was wrapped up with French fries and onion sauce (of COURSE! THANK you Senegal!) And we ate the casserole anyway. Then we all said what we were thankful for, closing our laptops temporarily to really honor each other’s presences. J

I’ve been back in village for … (why is this always so hard for me to figure out anymore??)… Four days. Three of those (consecutively) have been without electricity. Or, I promise, I would have done this sooner. Just found out this morning, that the reason may or may not be that some guys wanted to watch more international football games by splitting the cable line. Well, they got the wrong line, fried and power station and fried themselves. Or maybe just one guy. I don’t know if this is true… its tragic, if so, and also somehow… nearly Darwin award worthy, right? … Ugg…

In other news, I’m doing the World Wise Schools program through the Peace Corps, which partners me with an American classroom to write letters back and forth. I really wanted to get the kids at my local school involved, especially because my correspondents are in a French class. Yesterday was truly one of the best days of my life. Why? Kids. Crazy, ridiculous, beautiful, silly kids. I spent four hours going from class to class to ask what questions they wanted to ask their new American friends. It always always started with “Is America cool?” Other questions were “Do you have to sweep your classrooms and clean the bathrooms?” “What are your names? Your mom’s names? Your dad’s names? Your brothers’ names? (you see the pattern here…)” “Do you try really hard in school?” My very favorite question was about our President “Does Barak Obama do good work for the people?” but that was kind of tied with “Do you have cows at your houses? Chickens? Sheep? Goats? Donkeys?” P.S. my correspondence class is in Chicago…

Why exactly was this experience so magical? I mean, beyond these beautiful glowing smiling faces (I know I’m crazy in love with the kids here) that just really wanted to participate in this conversation with me. Well, the youngest class conversation ended with a dance party. And, it is just NOT possible to explain the adorable-ness of these little 5 and 6 year olds getting their groove on. For one of the older classes, I was demanded to sing before I left. I have a really miserable cold right now, which I tried to play as a cop out, but they weren’t having it. So, I had a thought. “You guys sing me your national anthem, and then I’ll sing mine.” When it came my turn, I dove into “Ooooh say can you seeeeee” and then forgot the words!!!!! Oh, the SHAME! It kinda came back to me, and after I stumbled over the first verse (and later realized I left out a stanza), I ended with great patriotism and feeling! Oh man. I’m a little afraid of what the teachers think of me now. Every class I entered was sitting quietly doing their work, and was a raucous party scene by the time I left… It was Glorious! I’m grateful for THAT!