Ziguinchor, Tonsillitis, last days in Dakar

The past two weeks have been uneventful in Dakar, except for the occasional (and that means every day) losses of power. My family immediately blames Wade whereas Senelec, the company that controls the power, blames it on the heat. Ironically, when all the Americans leave, the temperature skyrockets. This isn’t the first time there were power cuts in Dakar; I did a project last spring on the same problem. Of course, this pales in comparison with the twice weekly six hour power outages of Ghana, but it’s still annoying nonetheless.
I had a sore throat for about two weeks, which then turned into an extremely painful one and brought with it a steady fever. Go figure…I have a throat infection, Tonsillitis. I can’t swallow anything, which ruins my last few days in Dakar because I can’t even eat Ceebu Jen.
On the 13th, I flew to Ziguinchor in the Casamance. Why? “Deemed the longest running conflict in West Africa, the low-intensity conflict in the Casamance region of southern Senegal has raged on for more than two decades. Appearing initially as a separatist conflict with ethnic overtones, the Casamance conflict is also inherently a geo-political and socio-economic struggle as well. Separated from the rest of the country by the former British colony, The Gambia, the Casamance region has very little infrastructural ties to Dakar. Attempts by the central government to increase rice yields in the region as well as the movement of non-indigenous Muslim farmers from the north has fostered resentful accusations of “land despoilment” and the destruction of Casamancais resources with the permission of the central government. Once the country’s breadbasket, the Casamance is now the poorest and most deprived region of Senegal. The Movement of Democratic Forces in the Casamance (MFDC), the rebel movement in the region, initially fought for independence for the entire Casamance region. However, recent conflicts within the organization have fostered a split between the predominately Diola, more radical and more militaristic southern group and the northern group who is more inclined for peaceful measures and more cooperative with the Senegalese government.” I am currently working on a research project specifically looking at international aid organizations’ support of women’s peace organizations during the conflict. I have been researching for months, so when I came to Senegal and was told by the CIEE director I wouldn’t be able to travel to the region because of safety reasons, I was a little upset. Nonetheless, I was granted permission at the last minute, and I took the safest route: plane.
I stayed with the Soumare family, which made for both an interesting and rewarding experience. I was lucky to stay with Lamine Soumare, the brother of my host mother in Dakar, because he works on a female literacy class project and knew exactly where I could find the offices of all of the organizations I needed to speak with. The family was way too kind and they wanted to make me gain weight (shows they gave me a good welcoming, I suppose), so they kept giving me cashews, mangoes, bañyes (fried doughy balls with sugar), and making me eat by myself with a huge plate. I didn’t gain weight though, because I told them I can’t eat that much. The sad thing about the Casamance is it really is the breadbasket and the most beautiful part of the country. Cashews in Dakar cost one dollar for a small bag, whereas in the Casamance one has only to climb a tree, grab some cashews and their fruit, and roast them. The same thing with mangoes, probably the most expensive fruit in Dakar. The Soumare family had a huge mango tree in their yard that we used for shade most of the time and it was weighed down with all of its delicious, green fruit. There were trees everywhere, the river was beautiful, and the people entirely too nice. It’s a shame that the conflict has destroyed so much for the region.The Soumare family was enormous; I can’t even count everyone. They were spread out between two houses and included at least 3 generations. I spent most of my time with Lamine, but I got to know the others little by little. They kept telling me they were poorer than the family I stay with in Dakar, but they were richer in so many other aspects. They loved having me as a guest: touring me around town, cooking special meals, dancing and singing for me. And it was the first time I have ever been called a Toubab. One of the younger girls kept yelling, “Toubab, xoolal!” (White person/Foreigner, look!) I kept telling her that I wasn’t a Toubab, but it didn’t stick. Maybe she hasn’t ever seen a white person (a real Toubab) before… Lamine blessed four pens for me and my brother to write our exams and blessed me as well (his father was a marabout), which made me feel particularly special. I was sad I only stayed for three days, but I made promises to return, inshallah. Photos here: http://elon.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2047028&l=ecc00&id=18203484

Electric Sliding, What is Literacy?, Sine Saloum, Marabout fun

A lot has gone on since I last wrote. Pictures are to the right and I also posted the link to Lizzie’s Spring Break pictures, because she took better ones than me.
The Saturday after spring break was International Student Day at Suffolk. All of the students at the University prepared food from their native countries, displayed traditional clothing and dances, and also participated in a talent show. Lizzie, Andrew and I made chocolate chunk cookies, which tasted kind of funny, but they were still good. Another professor brought cheeseburgers (Senegalese style though…which means they had a huge egg on top). Countries on display included Nigeria, Burkina Faso, Senegal, Mauritania, Benin, Ethiopia, and the Gambia. Our “American” dance was the electric slide, haha. In the middle of the talent show, a pretty famous singer came to perform his extremely popular song “Blocaz.” He invited a bunch of people on the stage to do the blocaz dance with him; it was a lot of fun. Much later in the evening we went with him to this very nice discotheque.
The following week my Education and Culture in Senegal class went to an adult literacy class on a field trip. The class consisted of maybe fifteen women over the age of forty and who almost all held jobs as a vendeuse (seller). They did not speak French and their first language was Pulaar (Fulani in English), but they could also speak Wolof. What I found most incredible was the fact that their literacy class was not in the National language (and therefore most written and utilized language in the country) of French. Instead the women were learning to write Fulani, a language that has only been written down for 60 years and in which nothing is written in this country. Our class was faced with this conundrum: what is the point of learning to write in your native language if it isn’t the language that signs, newspapers, etc. are written in? One classmate of mine said it was difficult to learn an alphabet, so it was better for them to learn the alphabet of their own language before moving on to French, which is foreign to them. Yes, this would make sense if there were adult literacy classes in French, but there are not. Most of those women will live their entire lives without ever learning French. Another classmate said, well at least they will be able to recognize letters and numbers on street signs. But does that really help? At the beginning of the literacy class, the women repeated the saying that those who are illiterate are lost and do not know themselves. Perhaps the literacy course is only to empower these women, whose children probably speak French that they learned in school. The women will be able to better handle their commerce through having the ability to keep documents of sales and balance the numbers, as well as help their children with their homework to some extent. I also think it is a pride thing; the Fulani are a large group in Senegal, but Wolof is the most wide spoken language. Through teaching literacy classes in their native tongue, they are protecting their culture and language.
Last weekend we went to the Sine Saloum delta. That is where the Saloum River meets the ocean. It was a most relaxing trip; we took a pirogue down the river, a horse cart tour of the local village, and got to chill on the beach. Saturday night we went to a traditional wrestling match. The pictures aren’t very good (there wasn’t much light), so you are going to have to use your imagination. Think Sumo wrestling, but with thin, muscular black men (in other words, the only thing the two have in common is the little thong/underwear thing they wear). There were many participants in this particular match, so the ones not wrestling walked around the circle and danced to the drumming and singing. It was quite a spectacle; especially when our lovely “toubabs” joined in the extravaganza. Three boys and two girls from the USA wrestled Senegalese people in the middle of the match. All of the boys won and one of the girls defeated her opponent quickly.
Finally, on Wednesday of this week we went to visit a Marabout in Madina. Marabouts are religious leaders in the community and the one we visited, Thierno Madu Tall, was one of the top Marabouts who oversees many Marabouts below him. We were entertained in his enormous sitting room, the same sitting room, he proudly told us, where he had just meet with the Israeli ambassador. We discussed almost everything under the sun: how many wives he had (two, but always was considering a third), his role in the community (he blesses all weddings and funerals and people come to him for financial advice or even to ask him if the mate they have chosen is right for them), his opinion on beating children (he believes that adult criminals were not beaten in their childhood, so the students under his care are beaten), and of course, his thoughts on talibes begging for their Marabouts (he said it was practical because the parents abandon the children in the Marabout’s care and the Marabout cannot take care of all of those children by himself, so they beg to re-pay their teachers; however, Thierno said he does not have talibes begging for him). It was a rare experience because he was not surrounded by his “posse” and was able to answer all questions honestly, even though he did have a very round-about way of avoiding the questions at times.
My birthday is next week, and happens to coincide with Senegal’s Independence Day celebrations. This Saturday we are going to a water management plant for environment class. The following week we will be going on our rural visits to stay with either NGOs or Peace Corps Volunteers out in the bush. In other words, my time is flying by really quickly! There are only three weeks or so left of class, five weeks until I go to Cape Verde, and two months until I come back to the U.S.

tomorrow....

Well, my semester in Ghana is drawing to a close. Tomorrow I will leave the hostel forever at 4:30pm, head to the airport and leave Ghana at 11:30pm. Sad times...

The last few days I have just been rushing to finish things up before I leave. We have also been going out a lot on people's last nights in town. Indian food twice in one week, Italian restaurant, the Baze bar, Tyme Out on campus for Chinese. Saturday I had lunch at Prof's house with the other CDD interns. Sunday I went to Tema with my roommate to visit her family. It's interesting how cyclical life is...when we first arrived in Ghana, the dorms were empty, the campus a ghost town because we arrived two weeks before registration. Now, since we are leaving four days after the semester has ended, we are once again the only people on campus. Night market has even ceased to function except for a few stalls. The silence in the hostel and campus is deafening. I am not packed yet, I have not finished souvenir shopping, and I still have a long list of things to do before I leave. Hey I still have all of today and a lot of tomorrow. ;)
I will be spending almost 18 hours on a plane, which I am not looking forward to. In addition to that I will be spending two hours in London and four in JFK. I will be home more than 24 hours after I leave, but hey I will have a good book and a host of movies to select from on the British Airways flight.

Things I won't miss about Ghana:
1. Open sewers
2. the honks of taxi drivers
3. sweating all the time
4. no water
5. no power
6. men harassing you (I love you, I want to marry you, etc.)
7. pepe
8. men urinating wherever they please
9. being woken up in the middle of the night by my over-studious roommate
10. hand washing clothes

Things I will mos def miss...to be continued I am sure
1. Tro-tros
2. Lights out as an excuse to hit the town
3. Puuuure Water
4. Plantains
5. "oh! eh!"
6. a nice cold shower after sweating all day
7. music blaring everywhere, especially Celine
8. walking to where you need to go, and people staring
9. Night market
10. Burgers or Snappy's groundnuts
11. Kelewele
12. hawkers
13. "i'm coming."
14. the friendly people
15. cedis
16. traveling on weekends

I am running out of internet time, but I will probably think of more to add to the lists...

Water, water?

For the record, I wasn't trying to be rude about the pictures. I am growing increasingly frustrated because I can't upload all of them for some reasons. Plus, I have to admit that I haven't taken very many pictures (a little paranoid about carrying my camera around all the time). I will try to take some more pictures and then attempt to upload them.
So, I learned something about electricity and water here in Accra. Accra is powered by hydroelectric power by the Akosombo dam (which created the largest man made lake in the world...it takes up 4 percent of Ghana's land area!). However, there isn't enough water powering the dam, so every three days or so, we don't have power. Every third day, we don't have power between 6am and 6pm. Every 6th day we don't have power from 6pm to 6am. It rotates based on where you live, as the whole city is on a grid system. Luckily, the campus is not all on the same grid, so some buildings will have no power on a given day while on the same day, other buildings do have power. So far, since I have been here, we have had no power in our hostel twice. Its not a big deal, because you don't really need power during the day, but electricity is connected with water. As the day goes on with no power, the water in the well no longer pumps into the buildings. Then you can't flush the toilet, wash your hands or take a shower until the power comes back. It's not something to really complain about...i think about the people who don't have access to bottled water and who go days without any water at all to drink, cook with.
So, a little bit more about my life here. I still don't have a roommate. Apparently, the Ghanaian students know that classes don't get "serious" for another couple of weeks or so. I am only allowed to transfer 4 classes back to Elon, which is a very small course load here (most kids take 6 or 7 classes). I haven't decided yet which four. I am definetly taking Population Studies (geography), Comparative Public Administration, Conflicts in African States and either Regional Development or Geography of the Developing World. I am also auditing three or four french classes. This may seem like a lot, but most of the classes only meet once a week for two hours, so I have a lot of free time. In the hours that I am not in class I am at my internship. I am really excited about this oppportunity, but I am a little disappointed in the fact that I am spending 5 hours a day on the internet and sitting in an office. Nothing is wrong with that, but I feel like I could be missing out on the whole Ghana experience while I am here, wasting time on the net. Oh well.
I am begining to enjoy the food a lot more now. I am jealous of ISH 1, the other international hostel. Its older, and more established and has a full restaurant, store and internet cafe. The restaurant makes pancakes for breakfast (1 for 2,500 cedis...less than 30 cents!) and the restaurant upstairs sells waffles for 5,000cedis (50 cents) from 5 til 10. We don't even have hotplates on the all the floors in our hostel, even though they keep telling us we will get them. There is also a very tasty restaurant in the hostel next to ours, called Tasty Treats, that serves banging red red (beans in some spicy sauce) and fried plantains, which are two of my fav foods here. So I am content. You have to eat dinner here around 5 because most places run out of food by 6:30. It gets dark around 6 here, but the sun rises around 6 in the morning. And so do all the Africans. And they are not a quiet bunch in the mornings. Its virtually impossible to sleep past 10. The weather has not been what i expected. Its been overcast 90% of the time and a little sunny and warmer the other five percent of the time. It rained yesterday for a moment and it drizzles but doesn't pour like I expected the rainy season to do. Its not cold, temps hover around 75-low 80s. But then I have Senegal to look forward to - 90s everyday! Its supposed to be hotter during september and october, but we will see how that turns out.
This weekend we are going somewhere, but I don't know where. We were trying to go to Cape Coast, but there is a festival of some sort, and all the hostels/hotels are booked. I will get there eventually, however. Next thursday is the one month anniversary of my arrival...its really hard to believe I have been in Africa for that long!