Video Fun

Although I've been hanging around the Kolda house all day waiting for my bike to be repaired (note to self: stop trying to do DIY bike maintenance) I have been too busy catching up on american pop-culture (aka Top Chef) to type up the blog notes I jotted down last week. I promise to have riveting new entries for your reading pleasure later this week.

In the mean time, please enjoy this gem of volunteer creativity...

Spring (or the apocalypse) is Coming!

Despite the unusually cold weather (read: 80 degrees) we've been having this month, hot season is definitely on its way. This is not entirely unfortunate because hot season has two redeeming qualities: mandatory afternoon naps and mangoes. The baby mangoes have just started to form and now my daydreams are filled with thoughts of the coming bounty.

In addition to the mangoes, it seems the apocalypse may also coming to Kolda. Due to the annual Harmattan winds, the entire Sahara desert has relocated itself in a giant cloud above Senegal. Last week the sun was partially blocked out behind thick clouds that looked either pre-blizzard and post-nuclear holocaust. I imagine it's something like what the dinosaurs saw.

Check here for an actual report of the recent weather phenomenon: http://af.reuters.com/article/topNews/idAFJOE81706Z20120208

Coming up Next...

It seems like forever ago that I wrote my last "coming soon" entry about my plans through new years (I should go back and see if I actually did it all...) but here's what's coming up through the spring:

-Finish construction on the wells

-USAID training in Tamba on behavior change and Community Lead Total Sanitation

-Begin a latrine building project with the help of USAID

-Continue monthly growth monitoring

-Initiate a Care Group to train a group of health workers in my village

-Begin a bed net education campaign before a universal bed net distribution project

-Potential Kolda-wide malaria tournee

-GAD Games: Olympics to promote gender and development

-Continue promoting homemade enriched flour and porridge

-Midservice medical appointments and assisting at training for new health volunteers in early April

-My brother comes to visit in mid-May!

At times I've felt like 2 years is an eternity, while at others it seems impossibly short. I believe the next few months will be dominated by the latter feeling.

Tuesday Night Smackdown

Last week I returned to town in time for an exciting night of traditional Senegalese wrestling, aka "sipiro." Fences were commandeered from nearby houses to create an arena, while 250 cfa - about 50 cents - bought an all access pass.

I arrive around 6:30pm to find pre-event drumming accompanied by the requisite circle of women dancing. The style of dance involves bending 45 degrees at the waist, sticking your butt out and stamping the ground with the apparent objective of kicking up as much dust as possible. Arms are either held straight out to the side or bent at the elbow like a scarecrow. Of course, I am lured into the center to make a fool of myself in yet another activity that everyone else can do with style. Thankfully, I am saved from a second round of ground stomping when the main event begins.

Sipiro is equal parts skill, showmanship and silly outfits. Amateur wrestlers, unlike their overpaid and overfed professional counterparts, are extremely fit young men with a penchant for spandex and pom pom adorned kilts. Given Sare Sara's lack of electricity, I assumed the festivities would be over by sundown. Oh how wrong I was. As the sun melted below the horizon the fun had only just begun. The first wrestler to appear could only be described as spritely as he pranced around the makeshift ring "warming up" with dramatic lunges, hops and sprints. Others followed suit until 10 or so beefy young men were circling the ring trailed by "handlers" and a whistling trio of drummers.

With no pre-arranged round robbin schedule, pairs of wrestlers began to match up seemingly at random. A bout begins with the opponents swinging their arms at each other - a sort of windmill mixed with fly swatting and bitch slapping. Then they take each other in a bent over head lock/double half nelson. This position is held for minutes at a time - what they're waiting for I couldn't tell you - until one makes a move to grab the leg/belt/skirt/neck of the other. This is when it gets exciting. Unlike professional matches which end after a few seconds (why bother fighting when the outcome is rigged anyway?), these fights went on for many minutes as the pairs attempted to trip, flip and pin each other. With no designated ring the tussling pairs frequently sent spectators leaping from their benches to avoid a rogue elbow or clod of dirt in the face. The winner need only get his opponent down for a second before taking a well deserved victory lap. With 2-3 pairs wrestling at a time it's important to keep an eye out in all directions. With the sunlight gone, a roaring bonfire was built in a corner opposite the ring from where I sat. Dust swirling in the firelight looked like mist rising from the ground and illuminated the athletes and onlookers with an eery, infernal glow. Of course, this is when I wished I had my camera.

Due to another transit strike, the merry band of wrestlers was stuck in town for a few extra days. They eyed me with obvious confusion and I wondered the physics involved in growing necks so thick.

Project Update

Construction on the wells is underway and nearing completion! All of the bricks are molded and dry, nearly all of the well heads are finished and supplies for the covers are en route. Everything should be done in a week or two, then I'll post pictures of what we've done. Thanks again to everyone who chipped in!

WAIST

After bidding goodbye to my mom - and the luxury of the Radisson Blu - I headed east to the PC training center in Thies for the annual West African All Volunteer Conference. The 2-day event brings all of Senegal's 240+ volunteers plus a handful from other countries together to discuss projects, best practices and training. It is one of the few times all of PC/Senegal gets together and is a good chance to see out of region friends. While no sessions were truly earth shattering, I saw many interesting presentations and got excited about new things to do back at site.

Before going home though, there was WAIST aka the West African Invitational Softball Tournament. This annual event is hosted by the Dakar expat community and includes teams from Peace Corps, the US Embassy, the International School of Dakar and anyone else interested in 3 days of mediocre ballgames. Each PC/Senegal region fields a themed team, while other countries take the games semi-seriously and the legitimate teams actually bother to practice beforehand. Team Kolda was themed "South of the Border/Wild West" in reference to our position south of The Gambia.

As usual, Kolda-ites ran in many directions with their costume choices but we maintained a modicum of cohesion with outfits ranging from marriachi band members and mexican peasants, cowboys and saloon girls, a taco, a pinata and Ms. Chaquita Banana. I spent the first day as "spring break cabo" and the second as "border patrol." We successfully forfeited every time. I played in just one game, wore no shoes, missed the one pop fly that came to center field and scored one run! Despite a nasty head cold that rendered me voice-less for a week, it was a great time.

Due to the influx of homeless PCVs, generous Dakar dwelling expats agreed to take many of us in for the weekend. I had a fantastic homestay with 7 other girls, a real house with hot water, TV and living room furniture. We were well fed, if not entirely well rested due to a few very late nights out.

To add to the fun of formal WAIST activities, each night is a themed party. This year we had a talent show, PC Prom and date auction, and the grand finale dance party. Despite a few broken chairs, pots, mirrors and bones it was a great time.

Dog Days Are Over

It is with great sadness that I must report the death of my blog co-host, Tigi Tigi. She was hit and killed by a passing car while I was on vacation in London, just days before my mom arrived with bags of christmas treats. My host dad did what he could, but with no "dog medicine" available, there was little to be done. It really was a May to December love affair and she will be sorely missed.