Rainy season in Senegal usually begins sometime in July and ends in September/October. In the north, where I live, it may rain once in July, and a couple more times in September. However, this year, the rains dumped on Kassack. It has rained the tail-end of August and most of September. Huge change from last year. Various community members have said it hasn't rained like this since '92. Many people's homes have been destroyed, mud brick and cement houses alike. Since it rains pretty continuously, people do not have time to patch up their homes before the next rains hit. The clay soil of the streets become gigantic mudpits. Skin problems, respiratory problems, and malnutrition is the worst I've seen during my time here. Good health and adequate housing should be a basic right that everyone has. I know that this is not true for much of the world, but it really makes you think: when the rains come, the electricity is cut, you can't leave the village and the roof starts to leak, which is annoying but then you realize your neighbor doesn't have a roof over their head anymore.

(In the left picture, the reason why you can see the house on the right so well, is because the house in front of it was completely destroyed. The picture on the right is a fallen and full douche.)

However, I'm worried about the status of the community over the upcoming months. As I've said before, Kassack Nord and the surrounding community is primarily a farming community--almost everyone relies on the rice harvests for their livelihood. With the rains, 1500 hectares of land owned by the people of the Waalo have been flooded. The following two articles (in French) outline what is happening in our communities. (Translated pages are at the end of this post).

http://www.seneweb.com/news/article/35422.phphttp://www.sununews.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=3907:pluies-diluviennes-dans-le-delta-1milliard-cfa-de-perte-de-recolte-sur-1500-ha-inondes&catid=47:economie&Itemid=108

It's hard to see these people work so hard, and then have so much taken away from them. Everything is much harder here. For instance, to get water, people go to a public robinet (spigot), fill up a large basin or small tank, and carry it to their homes. If you have the means, people have a private robinet in their compound. My community is lucky in that we have a water treatment center pumping out potable water. Most people go to the robinet for drinking or cooking water, and go to the river or canal for washing water (bathing, washing clothes, washing dishes, etc). Why would they go to the river for these things? Because the water in the river is free. The water from the robinets cost about 20 cFa (4 or 5 cents) for a large basin or tank. Many households will need at least two or three tanks of water just for drinking/cooking. For many households, it is just too much of a cost to wash with treated water. So what can we do to help these people? There is so much to do and I feel time just slipping away. The realization that I cannot fix everything is depressing but also more realistic. Yet, while I think of the potential for Senegal's future, the images of the people in Kassack, right now, working are constantly on my mind.

http://translate.google.sn/translate?hl=fr&sl=fr&tl=en&u=http://www.sununews.com/index.php%3Foption%3Dcom_content%26view%3Darticle%26id%3D3907:pluies-diluviennes-dans-le-delta-1milliard-cfa-de-perte-de-recolte-sur-1500-ha-inondes%26catid%3D47:economie%26Itemid%3D108http://translate.google.sn/translate?hl=fr&sl=fr&tl=en&u=http://www.seneweb.com/news/article/35422.php

The other day, I surprised myself by finding the following article by the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/26/world/africa/26senegal.html?_r=1&pagewanted=all This town is actually quite close to my village (roughly 10 km east) and is where the communite rurale is located for our area. The article gives the basic problems of food security in our area. The price of rice, on a good day right now, is roughly 10,000 cFA* or 20 dollars for a large, 50 kg sack. Lately, during the selling time, rice prices are quite low, making 8 or 9 mil. Yet, they need to sell the rice to pay off the loans from banks, which were taken out to pay for all the imputs (seeds, fertilizer, fuel, etc). When farmers go to buy rice to feed their families, the price will have increased. It’s hard to see how hard the people work in the villages and then see how little benefit they get from it. For many people, rice is their only form of income. Whole families will share fields, and you can even see small children going out to the fields. Last year was not a good year for rice farmers. The terrible losses impacts the livelihood of everyone in the village. Less money means less food for the family, fewer resources to be able to buy “basic” needs like medicine when sick and soap. Children and pregnant women --really everyone-- is more likely to be malnourished and more susceptible to disease. It is frustrating for me to see the people around me work so hard, yet have to continue to struggle because of the global market or a bad harvest.

Time flies by so quickly! So many of you may be wondering where I’ve disappeared to over these many months. I finally decided to upload some of the posts that I’ve been slowly working on. My village, Kassack Nord, is in the region of St. Louis (the northernmost region of Senegal). It is about 80 km from the coast along Route Nationale* and then 7 km off the road, north of the main highway. Well, there is a road, but the quality leaves much to be desired. It is also on a road  between the towns, Mboundoum and Rosso. Part of the Sahel, my village is arid for most of the year, until rainy season. The proximity to the coast prevents the days from becoming excruciatingly  hot as in other parts of the country, but during hot season, the temperature can reach 110 to 115 degrees F. Few trees grow in the area, with the heavy clay and saline soil, not much grows here; on very hot days, the earth peels and cracks like it’s sunburned; it’s a gentle reminder that we live in the desert. Thankfully, we have rice fields.   And a tributary of the Senegal River.  Kassack Nord was founded in 1966 to promote rice cultivation in the area. My community is roughly of 3000 people, mostly of whom are of the Halpulaar ethnic group. They speak Pulaar du Nord, which is one of the Fulfulde languages. The language is complex and has many verb structures and tenses. The beauty of the language (it sings) somewhat offsets the complexity and frustration felt when first learning the language.    Most of the people are rice farmers. While there are other sources of income for some people (fishing, gardening, boutiques, having a horse/donkey charet), almost everyone works a rice field.  During the rice growing seasons, the village empties as they go into the fields to work and bring in the harvest. Many of the people are hard-working and try to make a decent living for themselves.

       Senegalese people love to fete. Every other week, it feels like I’m invited to some kind of celebration, usually a baptism. A baptism in Senegal is the baby shower equivalent of the US. Roughly. However, instead of occurring before the birth, the naming ceremony happens one week afterward*, and the whole village comes and celebrates. While I’ve been to a couple at site, I went to the grandchild of the matron and ended up playing photographer all day long. (However, while most of the pictures come from their baptism (innde in Pulaar), I’ve inserted other photos to get a variety.) There are three stages to an innde at Kassack Nord: the morning /naming, lunch, and afternoon/party. The morning of the innde, the baby is given to an aunt—usually paternal—to shave. They will also be some salt, some sugar, and a bracelet of metal.  While the baby is being shaved, family members prepare the rest of the house. Mats are placed as the house is being swept. The mother will be dressed in an intricately embroidered, shimmering outfit—make up optional at this stage-- and the baby will be bundled and ready to be shown off to the village.   Most of the time, while the mother shaves her eyebrows to paint on a brightly colored pair, the baby will, also, be given a twin dark set. The effect, to me, tends to be pretty scary, and I don’t know why they do this, especially when the mother has perfectly beautiful eyebrows. While I’ve asked them why they do this to the baby, noone has given me a satisfactory explanation. As in all events, the sexes are segregated. Traditional breakfast is niiri kosam/laax* aka delicious. Usually everyone comes in the morning to greet and wait as the father whispers the name to the marabout. Then the marabout will say a prayer, and every one goes home. Now, when I first got to the village, it felt like there were only a couple of names cycled over and over again. To an extent, this is true: the names given at these events usually have a strong connection with someone else in the village. I have previously mentioned the concept of a tokora: a namesake. Once a baby is named after another person, not only is it an honor, it becomes a permanent connection between the two people. If a the baby becomes sick, the namesake is obligated to know. The namesake becomes a kind of guardian to the other. (Makes you wonder since many times, if a man has multiple wives, one wife will name a child after another wife. This country likes peace.) Everyone gathers back around 11 o’clock, and starts lunch preparations. Usually a goat or ram will be slaughtered for the special innde lunch.   Older women will sit together and talk. Lunch is usually prepared by the younger women(age 15-40). The dish correlates with the amount of wealth the family has: sometimes vermicelli with meat, rice with meat, yassa poulet*, yassa teew, pasta with meat… generally carb + meat.   To cook the lunch usually takes a very long time, so most people bring their own lunch to eat beforehand. Plus, everyone needs to get their daily dose of the national dish, ceeb jen or maaro e liddi*. Afterward, there will be socializing, tea drinking, and music. Sometimes, there will be a dance circle. The local band is brought in and plays tribute songs to people. The mother will have a place of honor and will be wearing a very elaborate complet/boubou.                    Pulaars usually will have two names for a child: one from the Baaba, one from Neene. The name given by the father will be the name on official documents, used for school, business, and marriage. Yet, in the village, a person will be known by their mother’s name. For instance, my Neene is officially, Houleye, but every one calls her Hawa. During the baby weighings, it became quite confusing because many times, the mothers are too busy to accompany their child to the weighings, so they have a spare child bring them. Asking them for the name of the mother and the child can be difficult, because not only do they have to distinguish who’s child is with whom, they need to remember the official name of the child and the mother. Khardiata is indispensible, because she knows all the children. She will look at the child and tell me the correct name. Additional complications can be that women do not take on their husband’s last name when they marry. Hence, my Neene is still Hawa/Houleye Sy. She can be called Madame Niang, but official documents will say “Sy.”  It’s interesting that a woman’s right to keep her last name is a concern in the States but is the norm in Senegal. Yet, these are gender issues. Families follow the paternal line, not surprising since this is a Muslim country. When I ask the question, why can men have four wives, but women can only have one husband, one answer I get* is then no one will know the paternity of the child. Yet, why can’t familial lines be maternal?   *There is a technicality with holidays. If there is a holiday happening within less than a week of the birth of the baby, then the baptism happens on the same days as the fete. While Senegalese people like to fete, they do believe in conserving resources. These things are expensive. * niiri kosam/laax is a delicious dish of balled millet cooked into a porridge with soured milk poured on top. This is, by far, my favorite dish. The millet flour is combined with a little bit of water to form pea-sized balls. The soured milk, cooked with baobab fruit and sometimes apples (!), is sweetened. It’s better than cinnamon and oatmeal. *yassa is a delicious onion and garlic sauce marinade for various meat, usually eaten with rice *ceebu jen/maaro e liddi – national dish of rice, vegetables and fish *I also get a myriad of different answers. Here are a few of them: -It is written in the Koran - There are more women on earth than men. To be married, men need to take on more wives. When I ask about the existing, unmarried men, they have no answer for me. - Men will fight each other for the female. - It’s to prevent cheating. - So the man can have many, many children.

In my Pulaar village of 1500 to 3000 (depending on who did the counting), my family, the Niangs, are the only Wolof family in Kassack Nord. They are amazing. It is a much bigger family than what I’m used to in the States. My Baaba,* Omar Niang, is my host father, the village bread maker, and a devout Muslim. He is one of the most hard working men of Senegal (my opinion). He and his first wife, Marie Gueye, have nine children: Ibrahima, Pap* Mamadou, Amsata, Ousmane, Amy Cole, Khady, Mariama, Yacine, and Abdou Azziz. My Baaba has another son from another marriage with Coumba Ndiaye. In some respects, he reminds me of my father back in the States (Hi, Dad!). One of the things I most admire about my Baaba is that he likes to stay busy. If he is not making deliveries, he is working on his car, which he uses to deliver bread, fixing the house, advising someone, going to the mosque, or talking with his neighbors (but not too much). Because he is one of the few people in the village with a car, he is asked by people to take them to the hospital or bringing students from Boundoum, where the college is. Determined and ambitious, he works hard for his family. My Neene, here, is Houleye or Hawa Sy.  While her children are away at school, she lives with us and goes back to her house (just on the otherside of the village) when they come back for the holidays. She is a strong character. I am always amazed at the ambition and drive for knowledge my Neene has. Over the years, she has been one of the matrons at the dispensaire(health post), has a certificate in tree pepiniering, has her own copy of Where There Is No Doctor, taught Pulaar alphabetization in the area, and knows how to tailor. Most of the time now, she is a full time grandmother to her two of her grandchildren, Abdou and Nilan(pictured). Marie Gueye was my Baaba’s first wife who passed away the latter part of 2007. She is my tokoram, or namesake. In Senegal, to be named after somebody or have someone named after you is a great honor. Everyone in the village says she was a wonderful, generous person. Giving and hard-working, she and my Baaba instilled the notion of generosity and drive.   On a side note: Another thing I admire about my family is that the parents have made hard work and education a priority in their children’s lives, for the girls as well as the boys. While you may think that this is the norm, in much of Senegal, you don’t see it a lot. Many times, families in Senegal are too poor to send their kids through much schooling or only the boys will have the opportunity. As in many developing countries, while women get the brunt of the work*, they are not given the opportunity to study. My Baaba had a Koranic* education (he was a talibe*) but realized a French education not only important, but essential to furthering oneself in life. So most of his children work hard at school. My eldest brother, Ibrahima(36), is the main operator of the bakery. He is now the main caretaker of the bakery, helping with ingredients stocking, making repairs, and some deliveries. Later, I may do a post just on the bakery operations. (His picture from Tabaski*.) His wife, Mamme* Diarra Diop(24), is a very kind and sweet woman. Originally from Mauritania, she and my brother had a traditional, arranged marriage. She is the daughter of the eldest sister of Marie Gueye. (Her picture from Korite*.) She is a very caring mother to their four children: Pap Mamadou(5), Amsata(3), Chierkh Tijane(2), and Ndey Marie(1.5 months). They’re really cute, but sometimes, I don’t know how Mamme Diarra stays sane.  These three are rambunctious and have taught me much about how little boys work, growing up in a mostly-female household. Ibrahima also has a child, Ndey Coumba*(14), from another time. Ndey Coumba is in her last year of college(middle school). She’s pretty sweet and kind of spunky. Her tokoram is my Baaba’s wife, Coumba. My brother, Pap, is living in France. He works there as a nurse and is married to a French woman, Christine. They have two children, Oumar and Astou. Next--if we go by birth order--is my brother Amsata(29). He received his bachelors (English) and masters degree (Communications) in Morocco. His English is very good, and his experience living abroad helped to understand differences in culture. When I first got to site, he was incredibly helpful in smoothing my transition into the community. He’s currently looking for a job, so if anyone hears of anything, let me know! His wife, Selim Sy(24), grew up in Gabon and lives in Senegal with her younger sister. She lived with us for about a month and half during Ramadan, so I got to get to know her a little bit. She and my brother met in school and corresponded with each other while he was in Morocco. They have a little baby boy, Malick, who’s a couple of months old. My brother, Ousmane(27), is a student at the University in Dakar (Cheirkh Anton Diop University) studying French. He comes home for the holidays and works at the bakery. Whenever my sister, Ami Cole, comes back to Kassack, she bustles in. She is studying to be a nurse in St. Louis and also works at the hospital. Ambitious and a very hard worker, she occasionally comes home on a weekend to help out. She’s definitely a strong person and willing to speak her mind. Khady(23) received her baccalaureate* this year and just married. She is the sister I don’t know very well, mainly because she was adopted by another family. In Senegal, to strengthen family ties, sometimes parents will give one child to another family. So while Khady is considered a sister and was here during some of Ramadan, she has her own set of friends and family in Dagana. Mariama(22) is bright. Not only was she the top of her class, if she has ever been in a bad mood, she doesn’t let it show. She’s a devout Muslim, either with a veil and long sleeves or in a mulfa*, but she’s pretty goofy as well. She’s not so serious that she’s dull, but she definitely sets her limits. She’s good with little kids, playing with Chierkh and now, Ndey Marie. After receiving her bac this year in science, she is studying at the University in Dakar as an economics major. My youngest sister, Yacine(17), is going through her last year in high school, terminale. She is very energetic, friendly, and likes to have fun. Aboul Azziz(15) is the youngest of Marie Gueye’s children. He’s going through seconde this year.   Habib(18) at right is the only child between my Baaba and Coumba Ndiaye. He is a pretty goofy guy but pretty nice. At left is one of our cousins, Mordu Niang(27), who is an employee at the bakery. Now, he is definitely known as a joker, but he’s also really hard working. Another employee at the bakery is Djibi Balde(23), at left, holding Cheirkh Tijane. He is actually not related to the family, but is an employee from Dagana. He’s been working at the bakery for about a year now. He makes the three rounds of tea served after lunch. Mordu and Balde usually make fun of me a lot. Ali Bal Niang(~36), who is in Kassack part of the time, is a mason. He is the man who built my room. He and Mordu are siblings, sons of my Baaba’s older brother. When he’s in Kassack, he’s either working in his rice fields or making repairs to one of the houses. Before I almost forget, my uncle, Yokh(at left), is another employee of the bakery. He is the younger brother of Marie Gueye, and has a wife and child,Ibrahima, in Dagana.         *Baaba – Pulaar for “father” *Pap - is “father” in Wolof. You’ll see little boys being called “Pap” or “Baaba” in the villages, but those will not be their given names. It’s usually the name of the father or grandfather. They are called “father,” because it is impolite to call a child by the father’s name. *It is true, though, that the women in my family do all the housework: sweeping, cooking, washing clothes.  *Neene (“Nehh-neh”)- Pulaar for “mother” Wolof say “Yaay” (pron “Yaah-ee”) –Not to be confused with “Nene,”(“Neh-neh”) which means baby *Tabaski-probably the biggest fete of the year. Everyone buys new clothes. It celebrates Abraham/Ibrahima’s devotion to Allah by his willingness to sacrifice his only son because Allah told him to. Yet, at the last moment, Allah told Ibrahima he was just testing him and presented him with a ram. To follow this example, all Muslims are supposed to slaughter a ram on this day. Someone in village said something along the lines of thankfully, Allah didn’t tell them to actually sacrifice his first-born, because who knows what Muslims would be doing for Tabaski…. *Mamme – Wolof term used for grandparents *Korite- This is the day after the month of Ramadan. Every one celebrates by ending their fast and, like most Senegalese fetes, going out into the village to greet people. *Ndey – If girls are named after another woman in Wolof society, they are given the honorific “Ndey” *Baccaulareate- French school system high school diploma *mulfa-Mauritanean style of women’s dress: shown below on my sister, Mariama (left) *Talibe-Koranic student    The talibe system is a huge problem in Senegal. Most cases, parents will send their children to study the Koran with a marabout (religious leader/teacher). While the talibe live and study with the marabout, the marabout cannot feed them. The students are sent out to the streets to beg for food or money. In many bigger cities, the talibe will swarm around you with bowls asking you for money/food/cadeau. Sometimes, instead of studying, the kids are sent out to beg for money all day, without learning the Koran.

So I apologize at the long wait for me to update this thing. I was delayed by first trying to figure out how to describe my everyday events, then trying to get this entry just right, and now I struggle to figure out where to start. So now, I’m just going to start at the beginning. I have been in Senegal for eight months since the first of November.    My two months of pre-service training (PST) flew by. Almost every day was scheduled for one of the following sessions: language, culture, safety and security, medical, and technical training. Peace Corps Senegal was also trying out a new method (for Senegal) in training called community-based training (CBT), where each language group would divide their time between the Thies Training Center (TTC) and living in a homestay in a city/village outside of Thies. My Pulaar language group was in the religious city of Tivaouane. My homestay family were the Bas. My baaba, Moctar Ba,was a retired customs officer, and my neene, Ramata Lam, was a seller. They have five kids: Dieynaba, Ouleye/Binta, Amadou, Mamme Ali, and Kady/Mamme Habi. I only saw Amadou once, because he’d been working in the Gambia to save money to take his Bfem exam (entrance exam to college/junior high). After splitting time between our CBT site and the TTC, I was sick of being shuttled back and forth. Plus, Tivaouane was only 20 minutes away; some of my stagieres had to be bussed an hour each way (being in Mbour).     While I’d like to expand on my experiences during PST (and I may at a later time), there’s a lot of catching up to do. I swore in as a Peace Corps volunteer April 24. I installed at site on the 29th. My village, Kassack Nord, is in the Walo. It has between 1500 to 3000 people, depending on the source. Situated roughly 80 km from St. Louis (on the coast),the village is surrounded by rice fields. Rice is the main source of income for Kassack Nord as well as the sister site, Kassack Sud, and much of the surrounding areas. There many cement or mud brick houses, almost all looking the same and facing the same direction. Not many trees within our area due to the clay soil and the salinity. There is electricty (sometimes), a dispensaire and maternity, 13 boutiques, unions and committees, a daily market, a primary school,  a meeting space (like a town hall), and a water treatment center.  The river provides the fish generally found in the national dish of ceebu jen (rice and fish).      While my CBT family was pretty small, my site family in Kassack is huge!

Hello from Senegal!!

I'm at an internet café to update this thing. It's true:French keyboards are hard to use when you4re not used to them.

So my flight went well. Philedelphia was great; saw lots of sights. Orientation went quickly. Then, I was getting to the airport, on a plane to Senegal. OMG: Everything's been going quickly since then.Safety training, health training, lots of intense language training. I'm learning Pulaar, which is the 2nd larges language group in Senegal.

For site-based training, our training group of 30 ish is split up into smaller language groups and placed in villages: every day we meet for language training in site: My goup was suppsed to be in a city callled Tiavuoane until Tuesday, but this time of year, they celebrate the prophet's birthday in Tiavuoane. Most of the country gather for a grand celebration. For safety and other reasons, my little language group went back to the Thies training center.

Learning a lot about the Senegalese people. So far, greetings are incredibly important. I say hi to so many people in the street and their expression changes

I've talkd to countless people I don't know; they want to know what this toubab is doing here. Oh, and I get the occasional " chinois." Really friendly people.

I do miss you all, and I'm sorry for not writing sooner; I'll figure some thing out; Hope everyone is doing well.

Love you all!!!!!

I will be leaving for Staging in exactly 3 weeks today!