Monday, April 25, 2011

Training By Numbers

Books read: 5

Packages received: 5

Fish bones swallowed: 100+

Rolls of toilet paper used (at homestay): 1.5

Mosquito bites: too many to count

Ant bites: 1

Courses of Cipro taken: 1

Pairs of flip flops lost and/or broken: 2

Meters of fabric purchased: 13

Chickens killed in my presence: 3

Chickens that will be killed in my honor (or so I’m told): 1

Trainees gone home: 2

Trainees still here: 46

Days left of being a trainee: 18

Kilometers biked: 0

Hours it takes to drive to my future village: 12 (at least)

Number of people in my future village: 562

Number of boutiques: 4 (and 1 under construction)

Number of elementary school classrooms: 2 (both made of bamboo)

Number of health workers in my future village: 0

Some Notes on Pulaar

For the past 6 weeks I’ve been studying the Fulakunda dialect of Pulaar. Like I mentioned earlier, Pulaar is spoken throughout West Africa, and this specific dialect is found mainly in southern Senegal and Guinea. Trainees in my stage (training cohort) are learning three different dialects of Pulaar – one found more in the north and another that’s also in south/southeast. I’ve been told that my dialect is sort of the middle ground – slightly easier than the northern version and somewhat more complex than the southern one (Fulakunda speakers like to say that the other southern version – Pullofuta – is what little children speak before they really learn fulakunda). Lucky, this means I’ll be able to understand most of the Pulaar I hear in Senegal, and be understood by a large majority as well. My future town is split between fulakunda and pullofuta speakers, so I’ll likely pick up a hybrid of the two.

The nice thing about Pulaar (my dialect at least), is that there are very few adjectives. Colors beyond black, white and red do not exist in this language. The flip side to this is that there are a huge number of insanely specific verbs. A few examples:

-fiilaade: to tie a headscarf

-lojaade: to have something in your eye

-mumaade: to thumb kernels from corn or millet

-soowude: to be full of weeds

This also means all there are specific verbs that take the place of adjectives, which would be fine except that they follow the opposite rules of most other verbs. I’ll post some good examples as I learn them.

There are also a number of new letters in the Pulaar alphabet. These resemble other letters and sound almost identical, but will change a word’s meaning entirely. We refer to these interlopers as funny b (ƃ), funny d (ƌ), funny y (ƴ), funny n (Ŋ) and Spanish n (ñ). For those of you with an interest in phonetics (Mom), I think the official difference is that these are more explosive than the regular sounds, but I’m still learning to tell the difference.

In order to assess our language learning, we have three LPI’s (language proficiency interviews) during training. In order to swear in as a full-fledged volunteer we need to reach Intermediate-Mid on the language scale – which I successfully did during our second LPI last week, woohoo! My brain finally clicked into Pulaar mode during our last stint at homestay and I feel much more comfortable speaking than I did even a week or two ago. My host mom commeneted, “Koumba went to Kolda and now she speaks Pulaar” and my host dad said that he’s no longer going to speak in French since now I can speak Pulaar. My friend in my language group, Sharon, and I also carried out our first fully Pulaar business transaction with a tailor, which we were very pleased with ourselves for. I know these are little things, but it’s nice to be making progress.

A Day in the Life of Koumba

Just in case anyone is wondering what an average day during Peace Corps training is like, here’s my usual schedule while at homestay…

7:00 Think about getting up. If I’m feeling ambitious (and it’s not 110 degrees in my room), I’ll do what we’ve dubbed the “prison workout” – whatever can be done in an empty 4 square foot cell.

8:00 Start morning chores: sweet my room, mop (sometimes), wash last night’s dishes, get yelled at by little Koumba if I'm not going fast enough.

8:20-8:55 Eat 5 inches of a Styrofoam-esq bread loaf (with mayonnaise if we're feeling fancy) and drink kinkiliba - a tea made from twigs/branches and excessive amounts of sugar. Under no circumstances am I allowed to leave without drinking tea.

830 (if I get fed in time) Go to the local elementary school to water the garden. Since we live in the desert this is becoming a lost cause, but it’s a good excuse to buy a bean sandwich from the ladies posted outside the school gates and supplement my inadequate first breakfast.

9-1 Class at my teacher Djieneba’s house. Djieneba is wonderful and has made the past 6 weeks both educational and hilarious. As an added bonus, her host mom makes/sells tiny bags of flavored ice – called “Alaskas” – that we eat throughout class.

1-4 Go home, read/nap, eat lunch, wash dishes, read/nap some more. Sometimes it’s just my mom, the two kids and myself at the communal lunch bowl, but often Via (the random guy who lives in the spare room), my dad or other assorted men will join us. I’m not sure how my mom knows how many people to cook for, but she’s usually pretty close to the mark.

4-6ish Meet up with my language group at someone’s house (never mine), make tea, drink tea, practice Pulaar with the family, get made fun of by the family, end up speaking more English than we should, get yelled at to stop speaking English.

6-9 Bucket shower, attempt to study, sit in our courtyard (often in silence), watch tv (when there’s electricity), eat dinner. Dinner is generally a reserved portion of whatever we had for lunch. Sometimes this is great…sometimes it’s cold rice and fish.

9-930 Get in bed insanely early in order to “study,” read or write a blog post! All of this is done under a mosquito net while wearing a head lamp.

10-? Wild dreams/hallucinations brought upon by anti-malaria medication

Volunteer Visit: Demystifying PC Life

Last week was the long anticipated Volunteer Visit (VV). In the past, trainees were taken directly from the plane upon landing in country and sent out into the wilderness to visit a current volunteer and see firsthand what they’d signed up for. This was called “demystification” and evidently scared numerous trainees straight onto the next flight home. Peace Corps has since changed the protocol a bit, and now we get to visit our actual sites (or someone nearby) after having 5 weeks of language training and some time to adjust with the help of our homestay families. This change is much appreciated by the trainee community.

So that’s what I did last week – head 12 hours south to the lovely region of Kolda for a 5 night stint with the volunteer I’ll be replacing in Saare Sara. Of the 10 trainees destined for Kolda, I am the only one who is replacing a current volunteer and got to spend substantially more time with my actual family, village and counterparts than most others. My new family seems really great, but I’ll write more about them when I actually get to know them. One of my goals for the first few weeks at site will be to make friends with Toolaye – my 2 year old host sister. Each time I walked into the compound or looked in her direction she burst into tears and ran full speed to her nearest parent. I tried to shake her dad’s hand while he was holding her and she began climbing over away as if to swan dive from his shoulders before I’d gotten within 5 feet. Considering there's been a large white guy living in her compound for practically her entire life, I'm not sure why I incited such panic. Any ideas for befriending children afflicted with a fear of white girls?

I will be replacing a current Health volunteer (like me) named Martin, who has done a lot of work to improve wells throughout the village and is infamous within PC Senegal for his eclectic personality. I’ve heard mixed reviews about being the second volunteer at a site – and Martin will certainly be a tough act to follow given his local celebrity as “Issa” – but I think it’ll work out well. I spent 3 nights at Martin’s/my future home getting the grand tour of the village, meeting everyone I could and doing various training activities. As it’s hot season, we also spent a considerable amount of time siesta-ing around his hut and under the largest mango tree I’ve ever seen in the middle of our compound. Although I’m the only volunteer in Saare Sare, there’s an Agriculture volunteer about 2km away who will be there part-time and others within an hour’s bike ride. The village is right on the main road (half of the compounds are on one side, half on the other) so almost every volunteer going into the city of Kolda will have to pass within 10 feet of my hut and can easily stop in for a visit.

Speaking of which, check out the pictures of my future abode in my gallery (which hopefully works) ---->

Specs:

-4mx4m square hut

-Private bathroom/shower platform with 4 banana trees and unlimited tanning potential

-Huge backyard with room for garden and shade structure/outdoor bed/inflatable pool

-Manual well only 20 feet away – and it (almost) never goes dry!

After 3 nights with Martin we hopped in a taxi (along with 7 strangers) and headed to the regional capital. Due to meteor-sized potholes the 20 km ride took just over an hour but was uneventful if uncomfortable. Although the city of Kolda may lack the amenities of other vacation-worthy cities, it does have one upscale hotel that lets us use the pool and wifi with the purchase of one beverage per person. The bar is overpriced, but did I mention it’s the hot season? The Hobbe is my new favorite place.

I spent the next two nights at the PC regional house in Kolda – almost every region has a house/apartment where volunteers can meet up to work/recover from illness/use wifi/take a shower/eat American food/party. A smattering of current volunteers from the region came to see us newbies and partake in our demyst party the second night. The theme chosen was “fukijaye” (foo-key-j-eye), which is the term for a Senegalese flea market. Ever wonder where your “Spring Rush 2003” tshirt or “Houston Baptist Church Annual Pig Roast” baseball hat went after being rejected by Goodwill? They came to Senegal. Volunteers have found some real gems in these markets and with a 1500 CFA (3$) limit we had to choose wisely. I went with a pair of hot pink running shorts and a navy t-shirt that said “JESUS.” on it - period included. Decked out in funny but fashionless outfits we had a great evening – including fried chicken and homemade biscuits – and it seems like a really fun group of volunteers.

On Sunday morning we loaded back into the bus for another 12 hour adventure back to the Thies training center. Our driver was less concerned by potholes this time around, and sent most of the back row flying clear out of their seats on numerous occasions. Sadly, I’ll only get the air conditioned ride down one more time for install, and after that it’s 12 hours in a sept-place (explanation later, just know it’s uncomfortable and un-air-conditioned).

Overall VV went great and I’m really excited to head back to Kolda in a few weeks!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

A Quick Hello

Hello 7 loyal blog followers - just a quick note to say that I survived volunteer visits in Kolda, I love my new site and I can't wait to go back in a month. Tomorrow we head back to the desert for 5 days with our host families (and hopefully 1 at the beach...life is so rough here). I'll work on blog posts from under my mosquito net, so check back next week for details of 24 hours in a bus, the definition of the word "fukijaye" and what to do when children scream in terror at the sight of you (hint: don't chase them).

Jam tan,

Koumba (yup, I'm keeping it for the next 2 years)

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Site Announcements!

We just found out our permanent sites! I'll be replacing a current health volunteer in a town called Sare Sara in the Kolda region - check it out here: http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&rlz=1C1SKPL_enUS418US419&q=sare+sara+senegal&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&um=1&ie=UTF-8&sa=N&tab=wl. From the report I was given, I know there are about 550 people in the town and I'll be given my own 4mx4m hut with a concrete floor, thatch roof and "private bathroom." Alas, no running water or electricity but I'm only 20km from the regional capital and Peace Corps house where there are showers and wifi. I don't know much else about the site yet, but I get to spend 4 days there next week meeting my new family, counterparts and other volunteers in the region.

Due to limited space, please book your reservations at Chez Koumba early, all visitors will be treated to complimentary bucket baths, animal sacrifice and snuggling under a mosquito net.


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Chicken Massacre: Round 2

I survived the 12 day home-stay marathon, and much like childbirth, the painful memories faded away quickly after a luke-warm shower and greasy cheeseburger to leave me with happier memories of decapitated chickens and a relaxing day at the beach.

My feelings about my host family change on an hourly basis, swinging from intense frustration to general contentment to genuine affection. I truly believe my issues with my host mother are not cross-cultural but inter-personal, and while my 5 year old siblings can be painfully annoying I imagine children of their age are the same worldwide. I've taken to telling them in English exactly how I feel at the moment I feel it, instead of letting frustration build - luckily no one has caught me yet telling the little boy I want to kick him in the face when he messes up my dish washing routine.

Although my host-mom impressed me with her variety of meals during my first stint at site, this week our meals were consistently rice and fish (maaro e liddi). In order to break up the monotony of white rice and celebrate my birthday in style, my language class spent last Saturday buying, cooking and eating a chicken feast.

My birthday began with the usual host of chores: dishes, sweeping, mopping. This was followed by a breakfast of my least favorite food in Senegal - mooni. Mooni is a porridge made from millet that is sea foam green in color and tastes like last week's gym socks. Add in a little condensed milk and 8 tablespoons of sugar for a warm bowl of horrible. Side note: there are very few foods I've eaten here that I dislike, so this is a rare exception.

After force feeding myself enough to pacify my mother, my class headed to the market to buy the feast ingredients. This was generally uneventful, until we came to the chickens. The chicken stalls are kept far far away from all other food products at one end of the market. After choosing two chickens - alive at the time - we waited while the chicken man prepared them to take. Unlike my last viewing of chicken murder, this time the man was too busy to hold down his victims, so we watched dinner flop around while blood spouted from the neck in true horror movie fashion. It should be noted (so that you can visualize properly) that the blood does not spurt as one would think, but it a continuous arc out of the body. Truly fascinating.

Anyway, we spent the next few hours cleaning, peeling, chopping and frying in order to create a meal fit for the gods. Delicious.

On Sunday we went to the beach and relaxed with current volunteers. I learned all about the region I'm most likely going to and didn't get a 3rd degree sunburn, so a successful weekend overall.

Tomorrow we find out our permanent sites and then it's back to the village for the weekend. Next week we go on Volunteer Visits when we get to visit our future homes and meet everyone currently serving in the region. I'll post more about my site when I'm back in Thies in a few days.

kp