What ships are built for

Think about the last time you moved to a new place. How did you figure out where everything was? Where to buy food and household sundries, where to find public transportation? You probably looked it up online, or in the phone book, and you plotted your way on a map. Maybe you asked a friendly neighbor for help. But what if there ARE no phones, no internet, no maps (no roads in the first place, anyway) -- and oh yeah, you only kindasorta speak your neighbor's language?

Well, sir, then life is an adventure! ;)

Example: say you feel like a burger today. What do you do? Go to McDonald's. Or, if you're more industrious, go to the grocery store and pick up some ground beef. But what if you had to buy the whole live cow? This is my life. I have the choice of buying an unhappy braying goat, a chicken with its feet tied together, or a still-flopping fish. I just laugh -- I wouldn't even know where to begin! So when I cook for myself, I stick to veggies, beans, macaroni. And fortunately, when I eat with the locals, the women know how to prepare the fresh river fish excellently.

My hair is growing. Compare two weeks to four:



There is no such thing as "Africa." There really isn't. When people here ask me about how certain things are in Amérique, I find it funny, because of course America is so big and diverse. Kennett Square is not Compton is not the Great Lakes is not Vegas is not Hawaii. BUT how much bigger is Africa? In our Western minds, it's all elephants and lions and bright fabrics and oversized jewelry. But, like anywhere, there are rich and there are poor and everything in between. I guess the difference is whether poverty is the exception or the rule.


It has struck me that many of my friends are in positions surprisingly similar to mine right now. No matter where in particular you are or what you're doing, if you're brave and determined (which the people I love unquestionably are), then you are always facing the unknown. You are constantly putting yourself in a position of temporary discomfort, in aim of a grander goal. It would always be easier to just stay, just settle, but if you're really alive then you can't.

"A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for." - William Shedd

(Maybe this is not all so deep. But it spoke to me, and it made me fiercely proud of all of you for braving your own uncharted waters.)

Getting better all the time

Ramadan is halfway over... alhamdulillah! I am settling into a sort of routine in Dar el Barka, and it's really good. I am staying at the mayor's sister's. She has the largest and most beautiful house in the village, with a mosaic-tiled courtyard and flowering gardens, but I've yet to meet her because she evidently spends very little time here. I haven't even been inside her actual home -- I'm staying in a little guest house, one room with a large storage closet.


One of the nicest things is that the courtyard is all enclosed within a six-foot wall, so I have some privacy. This is more or less my life these days:

7:30-10:00am. Roll out of bed, because the sun has peeked above my courtyard wall and is shining in my face -- I always sleep outside. This is the most glorious time of day, when it's light but the air is still cool. I take a bucket bath, maybe do some laundry, tidy/sweep up my room. Eat a granola bar. Treat myself to a fruity drink mix in my water bottle.
10:00am-1:00pm. Stay inside my room because it's getting hot by now. Write in my journal, study some Pulaar. Inevitably someone will come to "greet" me. This involves them strolling into my room uninvited, doing the typical extended Pulaar greeting ritual (Peace upon you! Did you spend the night in peace? How are you doing? Are you healthy? How are you with tiredness? How are you with the heat? How are you with work? Thanks be to God, may you live long -- etc.!), and then after all this commotion, the guest just plops down on the floor and we both sit awkwardly for a few minutes of complete silence. Finally he or she will abruptly stand up, say, "Ey-oh! Thank you," smile, and leave.
1:00-2:00pm. I gather my things and wander next-door to the mayor's house, where I can use the kitchen. As far as Mauritania goes, it's incredibly nice, with a Western stove and (almost always) running water. My meals are slooowly getting more adventurous. I don't have a lot to work with! Also, I have to be careful to make exactly enough for one meal, because there's no way to save food for later. I was really proud of myself yesterday for making some semblance of French fries -- peeling & chopping the potatoes with my pocket knife, drenching them in oil, throwing in a ton of heavenly garlic & black pepper, and voilà! Not too shabby. (That being said, I have added to my wish list at right some kitchen-y things that would make my life much easier!)
2:00-4:30pm. This is when the sun is so oppressively hot that it's hard to do anything, so I usually just rest. At 3:00 I listen to the BBC Focus on Africa on my treasured shortwave radio.
4:30-6:00pm. More reading, Pulaar, crosswords, singing to myself. Set up my net tent for the night. (It takes three trips -- one to drag out the tent, then my foam pad mattress, and finally my pillow and sheet.)
6:00-7:00pm. Evening RUN! I figured I needed to start exercising since I just sit around all the time. My courtyard is big enough for me to do laps around the inside, without being gawked at by the villagers. The temperature has dropped enough by this time of day that I don't die of heat exhaustion, although I immediately douse myself in a bucket bath. Simple joys.
7:00-9:30pm. Head over to visit my fam on the other side of the village. The old man is the guard/gardener for the mayor's sister, so his family just kind of adopted me. I couldn't be happier because they are so friendly and generous! I still haven't figured out everyone's name or how they're related, but we hang out, and they always want to learn English. "Sank you, Raky!" They make me an excellent dinner, for which they even give me my own individual bowl and spoon.
9:30pm Wander back home -- down the narrow dirt path, over the tree root, through the herd of 70-something resting goats, past the abandoned tire, past the World Vision compound, past the house that has a TV (I think they have solar panels, or maybe it runs on batteries), and finally my obnoxiously large two-story house comes into view. See if you can guess which is my yard:


I collapse happily into my net tent. Doing nothing is certainly exhausting! ;)

(P.S. On phone calls: several of you have said you've tried to call my new Senegal number without success. I know it is frustrating! I don't always have great reception, plus the networks get clogged at night when many people use them. I can only say try, try again -- thank you!)

The hardest part?

Everyone always says that Pre-Service Training is the hardest part of your Peace Corps service -- that once you get posted to site, you have more independence and life is thus easier.

I arrived in Dar el Barka on Tuesday, and these last days have by far been my most difficult since coming to Africa.

Up to this point, I have constantly been in the company of other Americans, but now it's just me in a village of a few thousand Mauritanians who all know my name (Raky!), as I struggle to learn theirs. The people are SO kind. I feel like my Pulaar is terrible, but day by day it's getting better. Often someone will rattle off a long sentence to me and I'll catch only the last word or two, but I fill in the gaps with whatever I assume they meant and I answer accordingly. This might get me into trouble soon, but so far so good.

My days are long, in no small part because school hasn't started yet. I've been trying to walk around the village and meet people, but it is pretty tiring. Also, it's Ramadan, so everyone is fasting and essentially just sleeping the daylight hours away. So, I've had a bunch of down-time in my room just reading and intermittently engaging in self-pity. I try not to be jealous of other RIM PCVs -- I wish I had a sitemate, I wish I had the internet, I wish I had electricity, I wish I had running water -- because let's face it. I obviously didn't come here because I thought it would be "easy."

That being said, your communication with me TRULY invigorates me. Please keep up the blog comments, emails, letters -- and I have great news about phone calls! I just bought a Senegalese cell number because it's supposed to have better service at my site. And it's much cheaper for YOU to call than Mauritania! All around, awesome. I still will keep the other number for when I travel outside of my site. Please use the one listed first (011.221.77.518.70.13), and keep in mind to check for rates to Senegal, not Mauritania. Onesuite.com is 26 cents a minute.

MISS YOU ALL, love to you via the glorious internet in Boghé!

I accept!

I write to you now as an official PCV -- Peace Corps Volunteer! ;) Click to enlarge:



On Thursday we had our swear-in ceremony. It was beautiful and incredibly moving! I got all choked up. The U.S. Ambassador to Mauritania was our guest of honor, and he led the 76 of us in repeating the oath of office:

I, Julie Ann Clark, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, domestic and foreign, that I take this obligation freely and without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that I will well and faithfully discharge my duties in the Peace Corps by working with the people of Mauritania as partners in friendship and in peace, so help me God.

We had a delicious lunch to celebrate (chicken! a rarity here), and then we got to have a special Q&A session with the ambassador. His name is Mark Boulware, and I was super excited to meet him.





I was really impressed. He was quite personable and friendly one-on-one, but composed and intelligent as he answered our questions on the fly. We asked mainly about the recent coup and the U.S./international reaction. He stressed how, although Mauritania has had many coups in its short history, this is the first time the military overthrew a genuinely democratically elected president. Ambassador Boulware has spoken personally with General Abdelaziz, urging him to use discretion in the days ahead.

After the Q&A, a bunch of the new PCVs started preparing our spectacular feast for dinner (cooking for 100+ people takes some time!), but I had other plans. As a metaphor for this new beginning, I shaved my head. No, I haven't lost my mind! It's something I have wanted to do for a long time, and there is no better time. My head is covered here whenever I go out anyway, so it's kind of a fun little secret I'm hiding. ;) My friend Megan jumped ship with me (although she opted to keep a little mohawk), and Brandon did the shearing honors.





Now I am in Boghé, my departmental capital, with all my new region-mates. We're taking care of some protocol (meeting with local officials) and picking up household wares. On Tuesday I will move to Dar el Barka, my NEW HOME! All the PCVs assure us that "the hardest part is over"... fortunately, I have a good month to get settled because school doesn't start until October. However, I will be arriving just as Ramadan begins, when everyone fasts (from food AND water!) until sundown each evening. I am not required to fast with them, but it means I will have to fend for myself as far as meals are concerned. There are not exactly any restaurants in the village. Should be interesting. Send treats! =)

Coup-ka-doodle-coup

I think this article gives a nice overview and assessment of the coup situation in Mauritania.