munching mindfully in solidarity

So today is the official start of Ramadan here in Dakar, and the streets have never been so quiet. Sans manger, the energy level is palpably lower. We are not fasting ("It's a great month not to be Muslim," in a Catholic Senegalese friend's words), but we have decided to be more mindful of what we're consuming this month, so if any of you want to join us in that, that would be cool. Some ideas: Before each meal, take a few moments to breathe deeply and reflect on the person/people who prepared your food and engage your senses in it. Then, take the time to savor what you're eating, without overeating or eating too quickly. Actively experience gratefulness for your co-eaters, the moment, and the food you are lucky to have!

For Ramadan, people are going to be getting up at 5 to pray and then eat a big meal before 6:30 or so, when they start the fast, which lasts until sundown. Then they eat again. I will probably fast for a few days in solidarity, but there is no way that I could make it through the day here without water-yikes! It's definitely in the 100s right now.

Yesterday Aziz and I danced and drummed with a bifal friend we met on the beach, which was really beautiful- the huge melon shaped sun was setting over the huge waves. It's always an adventure carrying my new shiny red, black, and white hoop around the streets of Senegal's capital city. Ironically, I think I actually get hassled less because everyone assumes I'm part of a group or something or else are just shocked. In either case, I get less of the typical "Ana sa jikeer," or "Where's your husband?" which is a standard second question after hello, how are you?

les vacances citoyennes

  
(on the bus to plant trees)
  
We’re back in Dakar after a week and a half in the country, part of the University’s Vacances Citoyennes (Citizen Vacations). The funding came through at the very last minute, so we were waiting with our bags half-packed, trying to move all of our stuff out of the latest apartment, somewhat sleep-deprived, for about 2 weeks. In the end, we left on the 31st. Our mandate: to report on everything we could, to search for new funding and new students for l’annee prochainne (This meant I got to play camerawoman for the week and Aziz got to be le photograph).

 

The idea behind les vacances is to send university students (often 4th and 5th year medical students, doctoral canditates in linguistics or the physical sciences, etc) on a few weeks’ volunteer mission to aid in the development of rural Senegal. Given a tiny stipend, basic meals, and communal housing, the students (most of whom have spent little time outside the big capital city, Dakar) set up camp and begin their work in the chosen villages. The project was a grassroots effort by the likes of our advisor, Dr. N, and her colleagues, who, as medical students, sensed the giant lack in medical care for whole regions of Senegal and decided to do something about it. Dr. N. would hop in her car with a backseat full of meds and go treat people in the villages, of whom most had never seen a doctor before in their lives. This year there was only enough funding for 2 sites and for 10 days of work. Last year the students did 2 weeks in 4 sites.
 
(Dr N. and students)

On the way to our first site, Gossas, we stopped into a bustling fish market outside Dakar. The fish were enormous (many over 4 feet and 60 dollars) and everywhere, surreally frozen mid-gasp, stacked up on tables and in baskets balanced meticulously on weary fish-vendors’ heads. After an hour’s haggling (and in my case ogling), we loaded up the car with styrofoam cartons overflowing with the day’s catch. Driving through the rolling green paysage to Gossas, I couldn’t help wondering if we’d all reek of fish for the next 10 days (luckily, no).
 

  

In Gossas, we faced the first major issue: students hadn’t been provided mosquito nets, despite receiving them l’annee derniere, and this meant that they were at risk for catching malaria. This oversight/lack of funding was pretty frustrating, given the fact that much of what the students had come to treat was la paludisme (malaria). Fortunately, after a few days the organizers got all of the students a net, and people were more relaxed after that (we had brought our own but felt pretty guilty that the other students didn’t all have one- I ended up stretching my net over 2 beds in the gals’ room and just sleeping 3 to a bed).
 

Though the project was a bit less organized than the last year due to lack of funding/last minute departure, we witnessed hundreds of medical consultations and dental visits during our first day on location with the students. (guy with teeth) A lot of the students told us that most of the villagers hadn’t seen a doctor in the time since they last treated them (last year), and that they counted on the program to provide them with basic care. The dental student in this photo was providing consultations and demonstrating oral hygiene- I had fun playing with his teeth in my spare time.  

After a few days in Gossas, where we got close to a lot of the students and had begun to feel comfortable (even the dynamics of the living situation were fascinating- all of the female students would clean the site, set up the food, and serve the male students, who were basically dependent on them to do this- sometimes sitting around waiting for the women to wake up so they could eat their breakfast- which meant slicing bread and putting butter on it, and pouring coffee into cups, really hard stuff), we took off for the other site, Niarkhenne. This site was bigger and a bit better organized, but it was harder to get adjusted at first because we were staying on our own, in a private moldy side building that had been delegated for Dr. N. and other visitors (it was a really nice gesture, but somewhat isolating). Once I decided I just wouldn’t ask anybody’s name (there were like 70 students, so there was no way I could remember everyone), I started having a really fun time getting sent on all sorts of reporting missions.
 In addition, the president of the region (wearing the olive colored bubu) immediately befriended us and was very excited about the possibility of us making a video about les vaccances and recruiting American students for the project. He was the one who had donated lots of village land to the University, and is very hopeful that American students and others will come to research on the land, developing ecotourism and sustainable development initiatives. In the pic he is showing us his peanut fields behind his house as part of a tour of his village. He seems like he has a big heart.
 
(peanuts in his field)

  
Our first morning, we went with the reforestation project, which included planting thousands of trees in a national forest and on a plot of land recently donated to the University. I shot lots of footage, and even planted a few trees! The hardest things were these little prickly burrs that got into all of our clothes’ and were generally obnoxious.

(me/tree)

Later in the week, we took footage of medical consultations, math classes for local girls and a new computer education initiative. The pharmacy was packed with folks taking advantage of the opportunity for free medicines, but unfortunately there wasn’t enough to go around. At the end of the week, students were struggling to fill the needs of the many patients who were clearly too poor to go to an outside pharmacy with a prescription.
  

  In the math classes, village girls were given supplementary education to help them succeed in their next year of courses. They came every afternoon to participate, and many of the same girls went for courses in computer ed later in the day. When we were staying near Wassadou last spring we had noticed how few women were educated out of our survey sample- maybe 1 out of 10 had had any schooling- so I was happy to see that these girls were being given some real opportunities.

It is still bizarre to see the difference between Dakar and the country in this respect- in Dakar women have high-ranking positions in business and government, even though defined gender roles are only starting to be questioned (and a lot of this advance in women’s careers is due to the affordability of hired household help). In the country, however, women are not a priority when it comes to education, as most women have 5+ children (7 is common) and are there to take care of the family. Of course there are educated women living in the countryside, but most of them are from Thies or other cities, and are now working as part of organizations that do rural development, etc.
 

Anyways, living in the student compounds for the week and a half was a constant adventure- I learned a lot of wolof, which is to say, I can sort of communicate in basic wolof now, as did Aziz- who I think speaks Wolof as well as I speak French now. Back in Dakar, I’ve picked up again with volunteering at the community center for kids without families (nicknamed Empire, which is short for l’Empire des Enfants- link on sidebar) and teaching some private English classes. The big thing that’s been stressing us out is moving apartments for the bizillionth time in a year. I think we’re officially nomads now- which is maybe appropriate, because everyone things we’re the Pull ethnicity, because of our skin color and features, and the Pull are traditionally animal herders who have spread all across western Africa.

Otherwise, I’m trying to put together the video from les vacances and trying to pick a departure date from Senegal, which will help me organize the rest of my time here. Aziz is here til Feb, but I think he will be heading home for some family time and grad school applications in Nov., and I am applying for some jobs in the US and here and still waiting to hear back on that/figuring out what the best next step is. We’d like to start teaching some computer classes at the Cyber we made, and I am thinking about organizing a festival at Empire if I stick around for a lot longer.