Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The best-laid plans...

Well, I prepared a blog update that I was going to post for you all last week, after we got our permanent site assignments. Buuuut then the internet wasn't working at our training center the night before we were leaving. And then I got sick and had to be left behind at the center while everyone else went out to visit their new homes! BUT everything worked out in the end -- big thanks to all my fellow PC-ers who took care of me (and shout-out also to antibiotics). And due to the magic of the internet, I am still posting that entry right now as if it had been July 21st. Don't be confused. ;)

So Dar el Barka is AMAZING! I could not be happier with a site placement, honestly. It is right on the river, absolutely beautiful. For me it is the perfect happy medium between a village and a city. We have some of the amenities of a city (running water, electricity, cell phone service, some corner stores, a big market once a week) without all the litter and traffic and crowds. And they just built a brand new building for the middle school, so it's really nice. I am pretty excited.

I was also given a new name -- again! When I arrived to Dar el Barka, they asked me my name in America, and I told them. Then they asked me my name in Mauritania, and I declared proudly, "Houley Sow!" And they said, "Nope! Your name is Raky Mamadou Wane." (The first name is pronounced "Rocky," which I find rather awesome.) They chose to name me after the mayor's wife, which is a big deal because I guess she is from a pretty important family. All I know is when I introduce myself, people seem to be really impressed! This could also be because of my amazing Pulaar skills. I kid.

One more thing: I have a new and improved mailing address. The old one still works because it's just the Peace Corps HQ, but this one will reach me faster. Please USE it!! You guys don't want me looking like a big loser over here, do you? Mail equals life and wealth and power! Just kidding, but seriously. 94 cents can buy you my undying affection. It's that easy! Check it, over in the right panel.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

DAR EL BARKA-bound!


Today was a very important day for all of us back at the training center. They announced our permanent site assignments -- aka home for the next two years!! My placement is Dar el Barka. Let me tell you what I've learned about it:

Population: 7,000 people (although population counts here are extremely flexible)
Location: On the Senegal River, 60 km west of Boghé (the departmental capital in the south Brakna region). It's right off a brand new paved road, which is a big deal because it makes the town much more accessible than previously.
Language: Pulaar and French
Ethnic Groups: Pulaar and Black Moors
Assignment: I will be teaching English at a middle school, which they are trying to turn into a boarding school to accommodate students that live up to 40 km away in less accessible villages. The school currently has 202 students (78 female) in four grade levels.

Annnnd that's about all I know right now. The UN and World Vision have active projects there, so that's encouraging. I leave tomorrow to go visit this new place for a week, so I'll let you know all about Dar el Barka when I return, of course!

I was surprisingly wistful to leave my village PK7 on Saturday. I will be gone for 12 days, and my family was very sad to see me go. It really is home right now.

Bonus reading material: here's a good article talking about the refugee repatriation issue in the south of Mauritania. We have several of these UN tents on the fringes of PK7.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Life in the slow lane

Close your eyes. You're at the beach. Aaah... The sun is hot, but the breeze is blowing sweetly.

Now. Take away the ocean. In its place, add 60 goats, 15 longhorn cattle, a handful of donkeys & chickens, 1 skittish dog, 1 skittish cat, 5 cement-and-tin-roof buildings (3 two-rooms and 2 singles), and 12 straw huts. Welcome to PK7. This is my life:

7:30am. Wake up inside my mosquito net tent. Realize AGAIN that I am actually living in Africa. Congratulate self on braving another night of wild malaria-pill-induced dreams.
7:45am. Put on a long skirt so I can head to the open air latrine without offending anyone. Once inside, happily remove clothing and enjoy my solar shower. Attempt to clean body, though never entirely successfully.
8:15am. Get greeted at my door by my mother Houley (my namesake), who brings me oatmeal-esque millet porridge. Shortly after, a child brings me Mauritanian tea (with fresh mint and LOTS of sugar, specially poured to give tons of foam, served in tiny shot glasses).
8:55am. Walk the 100 yards to the thatched-roof hangar in my language facilitator's courtyard, where I have Pulaar class with Teresa, Ryan, and Matt. Baila teaches us on a blackboard in the sand, and we copy everything into our notebooks. Tea magically shows up about every half hour.
2:00pm. Eat lunch with my mom, grandmother, 2 aunts, 15-year-old married cousin, and 11 children under the age of 13. The women toss me the best pieces of meat. Even as food is in my hand, I will inevitably be encouraged to "Eat, eat."


3:00pm. Lounge around under the big tent with all my family. Take tea, again. Sweat. Fall asleep.
5:30pm. Evening language class.
7:30pm. Play cards with the toubabs (universal term for non-Africans). We gamble with drink mix and Vache Qui Rit (heavenly processed cheese).
9:00pm. Head back to my room. Avoid the camels who meander across our village at dusk. Fall asleep waiting to be called to eat.
9:30pm (or 10:00, or 10:30). Dinner. It is now dark. The cruel fate is that a bright, unnecessarily illuminated power plant overlooks PK7, but we do not have electricity ourselves. The faint glow is enough to fumble around with as we eat in the dark. The ladies keenly prepare night-friendly food (think macaroni instead of boney fish). Sit and chat with the fam for at least half an hour. By "chat" I mean listen to endless Pulaar and try to pick out vocab from time to time. Intermittently they will all say, "Houley, Houley!" and try to get me to understand something. I occasionally succeed, and we all laugh a lot. It's a good game.
11:00pm. In the haven of my closed room, change into SHORTS and a tank top. Rejoice at finally being able to lay prostrate on my back (not acceptable for women in public because it's "suggestive"). Drift to sleep listening to critters scurry across my floor. Smile because I am safe in my precious net tent.