First 5 weeks

I’m really good at writing long, rambling blog posts, so I’ll try to block this off into little sections in case you’d like to read it in segments. Also, unfortunately I forgot to bring my good camera to the regional house, so I'll have to make due with my phone photos for now. I'll put the better ones up later!

Ramadan/First 5 weeks

Well I’m doing something a little dumb in writing this blog post at 4pm during Ramadan. I’m sitting in my room right next to my fan, and thinking about the mayonnaise sandwiches and coffee my host family and I will have to break our fast in four hours. Don’t worry, I’ll edit this before I post it in case anything rash comes out from my hangry.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about those “you’re not you – eat a Snickers” commercials.

In truth, I’m glad to be participating in some very small way in Ramadan. As one of the five pillars of Islam, it’s something that every single person in my community holds dear, and because these first couple months at site are all about integrating – throwing yourself into the culture at full force – I figured I might as well give it a try. But I’m only doing a baby fast. I simply don’t eat from 5 am (first prayer) until 8pm (sunset) every day. But I still drink water, unlike everyone else (all of whom tend to laugh hysterically at my response when they ask if I’m fasting: “Mi yarat ndiyam seeda, kono mi naamata naalawma fof” – “I drink a little water, but I don’t eat all day.” They always say, “oh, then you’re not fasting” and try to explain all the details of fasting. Most are gracious though, and tell me I’m good for trying to fast a little. Some look at me like I’m crazy for considering fasting when I’m not Muslim.

I have a lot of respect for everyone fasting fully. It’s no easy task, especially in this heat. Most still work on their farms in the morning, when, by 11, it’s hit near peak temperatures already. This morning I visited my friend’s farm with him, did hardly any work, and was dying for water by the time we returned at noon. It hit 115 degrees today. I’ve promised several people that I’ll try one day doing the real thing – no water (and additionally, no pretty much everything else – tv, singing, dancing, music of any sort, sex, gossiping, lying, and even photography I think). I’m sure that day will involve a lot of laying around doing nothing, which is pretty much every afternoon for me anyway.

Well that’s enough about Ramadan – what else has been happening in my life these past five weeks? For one, I haven’t spent a night away from site, which I’m very proud of. They call it the “5 week challenge” to encourage you to integrate as much as possible. Typically volunteers leave site at least once every 2 weeks for a little breath of fresh air. I did go to our regional house one day to pick up some paperwork for a little scholarship project, as well as a new iphone charger (quite the hassle when mine broke). Happily, I needed these things right around the same time my region was having a Memorial Day party, so I did get some much appreciated social time with English speakers. It took a lot of strength to head back to site instead of spending the night. But I did, and now I get to celebrate! Tomorrow I head back to the regional house for some down time. I’ll also break the Ramadan fast while I’m there…. which I’m pretty OK with.

Challenges

These five weeks have been challenging in ways I never expected. Obviously, the biggest challenge has been the language. Every day is focused on getting better at Pulaar, and I’m sure I am getting a lot better, but it’s hard to see that when it’s such a slow progression. I’ve got flash cards with 580 verbs (everything in Pulaar is a verb – if it’s not, it comes from a verb) that I try to do a few of every day. I’m learning that self motivation is tricky though. It’s hard to push yourself out of your safe, comfortable room, into a world where people laugh and stare at you, and every conversation you have is exhausting. There’s also nobody standing over my shoulder telling me to study, nor is there any sort of test that I’ll fail if I don’t. It’s all for my own benefit now, and if I choose not to learn it, I won’t. One volunteer who recently finished his service stayed at the same language level the full 2 years. Others were fluent.

Hopefully, I’ll be closer to the latter. I’ve definitely got motivation. I can’t begin to try to explain the frustration in wanting to communicate, but not being able to. I’ve experienced this before of course, but never for such an extended period of time with people that I see day after day, and plan to be friends with for the next 2 years (and beyond). My neighbors, for instance, are some of my favorite people here. I watch evening football (soccer) with them often, buy bread from their boutik (store) every morning, and enjoy just chatting over attaya (tea). They’re patient and kind, and aren’t fixated on the fact that I’m a “toubab” (foreigner) anymore. Often, they’ll be trying to tell me a story – something that happened in their day, or some sort of interesting piece of information about someone in the family – and I just for the life of me cannot understand, no matter how many different ways they try to explain it. It makes me feel like a bad friend. If I want to tell them something about myself, they’ll sit there for days until I manage to get my point across. The good thing here though, is that I have people I consider my “friends” which I think is a phenomenal thing given the language barrier. I’m so grateful for the friendliness and hospitality of the Senegalese people. It’s certainly something to learn from.

Another place language has been challenging is when I’m trying to do my surveys. The Peace Corps gave me a very extensive list of questions I need to ask people in and around my community over the next couple months before our technical training. It involves speaking to the principals of each school, the mayor’s office, several credit unions and banks, the “chef du village” (who tends to deal with smaller local disputes), several business owners, and many more. Translating the questions is hard enough, but understanding the answers I’m given feels next to impossible, which is frustrating because I know the information is valuable, and could help me get started on actual projects eventually. Still, I already feel like I’ve gained some useful information. These things will come slowly, and that’s ok. Every Pulaar speaking volunteer’s mantra is “seesa seesa” – “slowly slowly.” We will get there eventually.

Perhaps my most unexpected challenge stems from the language as well. It’s simply lonely sometimes. I wasn’t particularly worried about this because I’m such an introvert, we’ve got free calling to all other volunteers, and data for contacting friends and family back home is cheap and accessible. No big deal right? But sometimes I find myself in a bit of a rut, and wondering why. I’ve had many wonderful conversations with friends and family, but I think there’s something to be said for having someone who understands you on some level right there with you. That’s what other volunteers in the region are for though, and I couldn’t be more excited to see them tomorrow!

What I’m proud of!

Alright, now that I’ve thoroughly complained about the challenges I’ve faced, let me bump up the positivity a little by talking about some of the things I’m especially proud of. One wonderful thing that comes from all of this “me time,” is the ability to get to know myself.

I’ve found that while I have several traits that make things harder for me (occasionally laziness and not wanting to study for example), one thing that I’m really proud of from this month has been my ability to keep a positive attitude even when I would get in those ruts. I’ll sometimes literally talk myself out of it (yes – that means me, sitting alone in my room speaking out loud to a wall), or I’ll call a friend. Or sometimes all it takes is for me to get up, turn on some 90s pop music, and have a solo dance party. Other times I’ll lay in my bed doing nothing for a little too long, but I’m getting better at forcing myself to keep going if need be, and it’s amazing how quickly those ruts disappear.

I’m also proud of making lifestyle decisions and sticking to them. I think the circumstances of living in such a dramatically different culture made this easier – having some sort of routine makes things feel more comfortable, and knowing that I’m sticking to it makes me feel like my life is somewhat in order.  So with that in mind, I’ve managed to go for a run every morning to a nearby village. It’s a beautiful run that includes the sunrise, lots of wide open fields, and crossing a river. Though during Ramadan because running right after eating isn’t my jam, I’ve resorted to afternoon Zumba-esqe workouts in my room instead… which are just as nice.

In addition, I’ve managed to stop pulling my eyebrows out entirely. If you know me, you know that I’ve had a disorder called trich since I was a kid, that for some reason, makes me pull out my eyebrows in school-like, boring, or stressful situations. During training this was happening as usual, but when I got here, I just decided that was it.  I was done – even though this kind of situation is a perfect recipe for more pulling. It might come back soon, and it’s ok if it does, but being able to stop something so habitual like that makes me feel like I have the ability to do a lot of things here I didn’t think I could.

One of those things would be starting my first actual project at site – which I somehow managed to do last week! We’re not expected to do any real work other than these surveys and learning Pulaar for the first 3 months, but this project is so small (and time sensitive), that the Peace Corps allows us to get started now. It’s called the Michelle Sylvester Scholarship program. We simply gather 9 top female students at the local middle school and offer to pay for their tuition for school next year as well as some school supplies. It’s just $20 for each student that we fundraise ourselves (thanks in advance to anyone who feels like donating when the time comes – but I’m also happy to put down some of my own money). In addition, most volunteers form a little club with the girls, where they teach them some sort of life skill every week or 2 or the school year. It’s so incredibly simple, but with the language barrier (and having to use French with some of the school officials– now significantly more difficult for me than speaking Pulaar), it was still difficult to get off the ground. Still, I managed to meet with the middle school principal, get the list of girls, and hold a meeting with them in which we discussed what kind of projects we would do next year, and interviewed each one about their hobbies, goals, etc. I felt like an actual Peace Corps volunteer during that meeting!

The people of Fanaye

Before I sign off… I feel the need to express my deep appreciation for the people I’ve met here in Fanaye. Their over the top friendliness, patience and kindness blows me away every day. At the very core of Senegalese culture is hospitality, and I have certainly experienced that this month. Before I got here, I could not figure out how I was going to meet everyone. Now I laugh at how concerned I was. I get pulled in every direction wherever I go (in the best kind of way) with people wanting to talk to me. From 100 feet away, they’ll yell “Ar gy! Bismille!” – “Come here! Welcome!” Everybody seems to know my Senegalese name (Gogo Kan), despite me still not knowing many of theirs. They’ll consistently offer me food and attaya, and offer to help me with my Pulaar.  I absolutely hate asking people for favors, so I always dread asking someone for their time to help me with my scholarship project, or the surveys, but they always jump to the task and go above and beyond what I’ve asked them for.  They’re also a culture that loves to laugh – always joking about certain last names being better than others, or making silly self-serving jokes.  They’ll laugh at almost anything.  Very very occasionally (especially during the evening hours of Ramadan), I’ll get someone who’s kind of cranky – they’ll say I’m “patrone” and have a lot of money, or they’ll tell me I should be a practicing Muslim. But this is so rare, and only tells me that the Senegalese are human too.  I’m so grateful for everyone making me feel at home. What a beautiful community.

The river - I took this on my run 

The entrance to my super fancy house

I look ridiculous... but this is the only photo on my phone that shows much of my compound (house)

Me and my host neice Habsol (still haven't learned the correct spelling)

My host niece Fatimata

At the elementary school graduation

At neighbor's boutik

Amadou Li playing my guitar (he's a good friend)

Another good friend Mamadou Faza playing my guitar 

My scholarship girls (better photo on my real camera to be posted later)

Scholarship girls

On a sharet (horse drawn cart) going to see my friend's farm. It took us about 40 minutes.

Rice farm

My good friend Ably Ba, who speaks English decently and wanted to show me everything there is to know about farming. I believe this is an eggplant farm.