PCV Ann Marie Albright
BP 79
Linguere, Louga Region, Senegal
West Africa
Par Avion
I officially swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer and move into my village tomorrow. Bummm bummmm bummmmmmmmmmm See you in 730 days!
May 16, 2010
May 11, 2010
Two months in Senegal!
My two month anniversary in Senegal. I am going to regale you with some of my cultural observations.
The dissonance within Senegalese culture baffles me.
I can’t show my knees or talk about changing gender roles, but here is how my sister greeted me the other day:
Are you finished? How did you study? How are your friends? How is your vagina? Did you spend the morning in peace?
WHAT?! Bizarre.
Ode to Man Jellies
Remember those really uncomfortable plastic shoes that were popular for girls aged 5-8 during the early 90s? That’s the craze for grown men in Senegal. It’s beautiful. Picture this:
A growth man standing alone in the African bush with a scowl on his weathered face and a massive machete draped casually over his shoulder. Then your eyes drift to his feet, Man Jellies! I giggle every time.
Ceeb u jen is Everything.
Lunch everyday consists of a giant bowl of rice with a few fish and boiled vegetables placed on top. The process of actually eating in my family is quite the event. At least 12 people sit around the bowl, which means I am usually reaching over and through coughing, runny nosed children. The men folk and I get to eat with spoons; the women and children eat with their hands. Amazingly, I have avoided explosive diarrhea.
One night, after learning comparisons in language class, I told my uncle that I could cook ceeb u jeb better than him. Next thing I knew I was cooking lunch over an open fire for 20 people. It was the talk of the village for days.
IF, Inshallah, I pass my language test today, I will be sworn in as a Volunteer on Friday. That means that the time of summer camp, language class, speaking English and seeing white people is done. I will be in my village, Barkedji, on Friday. And so it starts...
April 07, 2010
Barkedji--More to Love
While I am still useless in Wolof, my language skills have progressed to at least advanced novice. I learned how to say "I'm living the dream". I also know how to say "I can't marry you because you're ugly"; I feel I am well on my way to Intermediate low. Various insults have turned out to be incredibly useful, because this is how most of the conversations in the market go:
Asalamlekum Hello.
Malekum Salam Hello.
Naga def? How are you?
Maangiy fii I am here.
Naka waa ker gi? How is your family?
Mungiy fa They are there.
Noo tudd? What is your name?
Yacine la tudd Yacine is my name.
Am nga jekker? Do you have a husband?
Amuma jekker. I don't have a husband.
Lutax?Dinga sey ak man. Why? You will marry me.
Begguma sey ak yow ndaxte danga dof ak amoo xalis. I don't want to marry you because you're crazy and don't have enough money.
It's crazy for me to think that I stumbled off the plane a month ago, knowing zero Wolof. Now, I can express my needs, tell jokes and insult ridiculous marriage proposals!
I just returned to Thiès from a 5 day Volunteer Vist, or more informaly called "de-mysting". I went to the village I will calling home for the next two years, Barkedji. Check the link on the right for our presentation of the region, Louga. It is both entertaining and an accurate representation of the region. Wish me luck and areas of shade.
Asalamlekum Hello.
Malekum Salam Hello.
Naga def? How are you?
Maangiy fii I am here.
Naka waa ker gi? How is your family?
Mungiy fa They are there.
Noo tudd? What is your name?
Yacine la tudd Yacine is my name.
Am nga jekker? Do you have a husband?
Amuma jekker. I don't have a husband.
Lutax?Dinga sey ak man. Why? You will marry me.
Begguma sey ak yow ndaxte danga dof ak amoo xalis. I don't want to marry you because you're crazy and don't have enough money.
It's crazy for me to think that I stumbled off the plane a month ago, knowing zero Wolof. Now, I can express my needs, tell jokes and insult ridiculous marriage proposals!
I just returned to Thiès from a 5 day Volunteer Vist, or more informaly called "de-mysting". I went to the village I will calling home for the next two years, Barkedji. Check the link on the right for our presentation of the region, Louga. It is both entertaining and an accurate representation of the region. Wish me luck and areas of shade.
March 23, 2010
my nemesis.
My first night at my Senegalese homestay:
It was somewhere between 2am and 4am. I'd been pseudo sleeping all night; most likely because this is my first time trying to sleep inside an oven. I found a swatch of my foam "mattress" that wasn't soaking with my sweat, and drift into a malaria drug induced psychedelic dream. That's when my nemesis strikes.
The most horrific cry rips me out of my sleep. I wake up malaria med high out of my gourd, tangled in my mosquito net, panicked at the shrill scream of a dying creature. I jump out of bed, still attached to my mosquito net, into a pool of water leaking from my water filter. Welcome to Senegal.
Only a week later and I feel pretty savy. Now I know that the nightly death screams are simply the nay of my nemesis--the donkey. I know how to make a joke in Wolof, how to eat meals from the communal bowl, and most importantly, bathroom etiquette where there is no toilet or toilet paper.
I am back at the training center in Thies for the next two days. It's a lot like summer camp except instead of arts and crafts time, we learn to make mud stoves. Then I head back to my homestay village, Tassette, for two weeks. I love my village time. It's an amazing way to learn the language and really integrate into local culture.
Right now I have the capacity of a three year old. I do a lot of "Lii lan laa?" (What's this?) to learn. As predicted, my first word was hello, which proved incredibly difficult because greetings in Senegalese culture are a mini dialogue. Next, was "thank you" and "I don't understand". I wasn't exactly blessed with the physical characteristics of a social chameleon, blending in is not my strength. So, naturally, my next word was the word for white person, "tubap". Three weeks til fluency. Inshallah.
My name:
While I was in Kenya I was called "Emily". Thailand it was "Amery"; and China it was "Ann". Rather than go by a broken version of my name, I was given a Senegalese name. My neighbors dubbed me Aida. I felt like by giving me a name I had made it "in". They wrote me a little name tag so I wouldn't forget my new Senegalese name. I went home giddy and proud. I was so excited to announce "Aida laa tudd" (My name is Aida) to my host family.
My excitement was not shared. My family immediately started talking over one another. One of my sisters took my name tag and scribbled out my name. What?! Apparently, giving a name is a big deal. Naming someone is an honor, and one that my family did not intend to let the neighbors do. So, an hour of acting out a "What is your name?/ My name is.." dialogue followed, ensuring that I would not be confused about my TRUE Senegalese identity. My name is...........Yacine.
Enjoy running water and your next cold drink. All my love!
Yacine
It was somewhere between 2am and 4am. I'd been pseudo sleeping all night; most likely because this is my first time trying to sleep inside an oven. I found a swatch of my foam "mattress" that wasn't soaking with my sweat, and drift into a malaria drug induced psychedelic dream. That's when my nemesis strikes.
The most horrific cry rips me out of my sleep. I wake up malaria med high out of my gourd, tangled in my mosquito net, panicked at the shrill scream of a dying creature. I jump out of bed, still attached to my mosquito net, into a pool of water leaking from my water filter. Welcome to Senegal.
Only a week later and I feel pretty savy. Now I know that the nightly death screams are simply the nay of my nemesis--the donkey. I know how to make a joke in Wolof, how to eat meals from the communal bowl, and most importantly, bathroom etiquette where there is no toilet or toilet paper.
I am back at the training center in Thies for the next two days. It's a lot like summer camp except instead of arts and crafts time, we learn to make mud stoves. Then I head back to my homestay village, Tassette, for two weeks. I love my village time. It's an amazing way to learn the language and really integrate into local culture.
Right now I have the capacity of a three year old. I do a lot of "Lii lan laa?" (What's this?) to learn. As predicted, my first word was hello, which proved incredibly difficult because greetings in Senegalese culture are a mini dialogue. Next, was "thank you" and "I don't understand". I wasn't exactly blessed with the physical characteristics of a social chameleon, blending in is not my strength. So, naturally, my next word was the word for white person, "tubap". Three weeks til fluency. Inshallah.
My name:
While I was in Kenya I was called "Emily". Thailand it was "Amery"; and China it was "Ann". Rather than go by a broken version of my name, I was given a Senegalese name. My neighbors dubbed me Aida. I felt like by giving me a name I had made it "in". They wrote me a little name tag so I wouldn't forget my new Senegalese name. I went home giddy and proud. I was so excited to announce "Aida laa tudd" (My name is Aida) to my host family.
My excitement was not shared. My family immediately started talking over one another. One of my sisters took my name tag and scribbled out my name. What?! Apparently, giving a name is a big deal. Naming someone is an honor, and one that my family did not intend to let the neighbors do. So, an hour of acting out a "What is your name?/ My name is.." dialogue followed, ensuring that I would not be confused about my TRUE Senegalese identity. My name is...........Yacine.
Enjoy running water and your next cold drink. All my love!
Yacine
March 02, 2010
i wish life was a musical
Today marks day 500 since I officially submitted my application to join the Peace Corps. It has been a long process with lots of mixed emotions. After every step in the process, I couldn't help but start making mental packing lists for my inevitable departure. Around day 200 I started to realize that an actual invitation to serve was like the proverbial carrot, always dangling just outside my reach. To use the Peace Corps slogan, life was calling. I couldn't, and PC clearly advises you not too, wait around any longer. Time to go teach in China!
Days after I accepted a position teaching English in Taizhou, China with my BEST friend Kate, Peace Corps called to talk about country placement! Lovely. I withdrew my application from active consideration and went on to have five of the most awkwardly amazing months I could have expected.
Now on the other side of my "that was so weird..." China experience, I am getting ready leave for Senegal. "Getting ready" is code for running a lot of unnecessary errands, saying goodbye to people and running water, and watching trashy day-time television. Really, I'll do anything to avoid packing--my one nemesis. I even went on a run today. Gross.
If only life were a musical. I could hit a few high notes and woodland creatures would flock to help me. I'd finish packing, and my catchy little number, in minutes. Alas, without the assistance of my furred and feathered friends only one item has made it into my bag. Valentiena's hot sauce. Not only a delicious additive, but I am convinced it will serve as a priceless defense against mysterious Senegal gastrointestinal issues.
Yep, just me and my hot sauce living in Senegal for 27 months. Although, I don't know where, another Peace Corps carrot I suppose. My assignment is to serve as an Environmental Education Extension Agent. The first nine weeks are training in Thies which includes lots of language learning and skill building. I imagine it's also "try-outs". A time to assess your sweet skills and what kind of environment you can handle being placed in. I watch Bear Grylls, bring on the Bush.
I'm going to go turn on and off the lights for a while. I'll do my best to update this with tales from my PC experience. Thank you for being in my life!
Days after I accepted a position teaching English in Taizhou, China with my BEST friend Kate, Peace Corps called to talk about country placement! Lovely. I withdrew my application from active consideration and went on to have five of the most awkwardly amazing months I could have expected.
Now on the other side of my "that was so weird..." China experience, I am getting ready leave for Senegal. "Getting ready" is code for running a lot of unnecessary errands, saying goodbye to people and running water, and watching trashy day-time television. Really, I'll do anything to avoid packing--my one nemesis. I even went on a run today. Gross.
If only life were a musical. I could hit a few high notes and woodland creatures would flock to help me. I'd finish packing, and my catchy little number, in minutes. Alas, without the assistance of my furred and feathered friends only one item has made it into my bag. Valentiena's hot sauce. Not only a delicious additive, but I am convinced it will serve as a priceless defense against mysterious Senegal gastrointestinal issues.
Yep, just me and my hot sauce living in Senegal for 27 months. Although, I don't know where, another Peace Corps carrot I suppose. My assignment is to serve as an Environmental Education Extension Agent. The first nine weeks are training in Thies which includes lots of language learning and skill building. I imagine it's also "try-outs". A time to assess your sweet skills and what kind of environment you can handle being placed in. I watch Bear Grylls, bring on the Bush.
I'm going to go turn on and off the lights for a while. I'll do my best to update this with tales from my PC experience. Thank you for being in my life!
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