Closure

On the way forward...

It’s been more than three months since my unexpected return home from Kedougou, Senegal due to Covid 19.

During these past three months I scored a full-time direct hire position at the USDA, met someone pretty cool, and bought a bike almost identical to the one I had in Senegal. It seems like I climbed out of this evacuation and THRIVED, but that’s not true.

lil' Booga. 

Thinking of my time in Kedougou always brings intense emotions of longing and guilt. However, in an attempt to live in the moment, anytime those thoughts would pop up I would whack it out. But when staring at a camp fire in Northern Virginia brings me to tears because it reminds me of those cold season nights in village when a fire and my dog sitting at my feet was the nightly routine… I know “living in the moment” is impossible. I’m writing this to give myself some closure on how I’m feeling and address the fact that I’m not over it.

   

My life in Senegal was riding a shitty bike to work with a chain that kept falling off through mud and rocks in 110-degree heat. It was 15 hour night bus rides with no air conditioning from Kedougou to the capital once a month just to attend two-day trainings at the Peace Corps training center. It was catching fire in my hut that led me back to the
capital to recover for two months. It was biking 5 miles to the nearest road town for cell service to check my email, and then a two hour PACKED mini van ride for WiFi. It was being an outsider that would never be able to truly integrate in a community I admired. It was questioning the Peace Corps mission and asking whether we are doing more harm than good. It. Was. Tough.

Village "traffic" 

But in the midst of all that there were moments that I’ll always think fondly of. Like learning the local language and being able to joke around with the kids in village. It was drinking hot tea during the heat of the day with my host brothers and shooing away chickens. It was going out to the fields to greet my host sisters and learning how gardening works. It was the amazing transition from desert to tropical rainforest in the span of three months during rainy season. It was a dog, Booga, that was there for me when I was lonely. It was a group of amazing volunteers that was there for me to fall back on. And to continue the theme of things catching fire, it was how the community came together when a hut got struck by lightning and burned to the ground (no one was harmed).

Soooo many onions

The good, the bad, and the ugly combined to make Senegal the place where I got out of that convenient, sterile bubble I was in in the States and experience life at a level way beyond that bubble. And it was nice.

I delayed coming back to the States. Growing up as a third culture kid, I never identified this place as home anyways. Washington DC especially is a difficult and lonely place because everyone is a stranger and only here for work. I knew I would end up here sooner or later for a career, but I was planning on delaying that as much as possible.

My delay strategy was awesome too. I was gonna go bike packing with a peace corps friend for a month in Morocco and then spend Christmas in Germany. But the pandemic came rolling in in perfect 2020 fashion and threw me back to the very place I’ve been avoiding for the past year and a half. My time in Senegal was a dream.

Lonely DC. Photo cred: me :) 

Today I’m experiencing a whole new reality. The news is exploding about tragic things like the coronavirus not being taken seriously here in the US and culture wars occurring between the right and the left. A life-saving mask is now a political statement when it shouldn’t be. Black Lives Matter, a movement that I support and believe in, shed a powerful spotlight on the racial injustices in this country. So now I’m reconsidering what it means to be American, not only here but overseas too. Being in Peace Corps, the “white savior complex” was very present and not addressed during our trainings at all. After staying in Senegal for a year and a half, I realized that I know nothing about development compared to those in my community and that should be taught.

   

All that being said, I have hope that this fog will lift in the coming months. The Malinke phrase “dondin-dondin” (little by little) helped me cope with life in Senegal and is applicable to my journey right now. I’m just taking small, difficult steps towards my new reality. 

50 km Bike Ride Through the Bush

So it’s the new year and one more year of living here in Kedougou. I’m not going to lie, this past year went by slowly due to all the adjustment, language learning, and cultural struggles. But now that I’ve learned enough about how to be comfortable with the work flow and village life, I think this last year will cruise by. That being said, one of my New Years resolutions is to share as much as I can about my time remaining here in Senegal. Amongst the occasional lows of living in Kedougou, so many ridiculous, hilarious, inspiring, heart warming, and amazing things happen in between and that makes this overall experience something to write about. 

So anyways I did something dumb the other day ago and decided to bike 50 km through the bush. Why? Well to greet the new master farmer in Nafadji (his village) of course! It might be a feat to do something that seems so unimportant...but the Senegalese take greetings very seriously and definitely would remember that one peace corps volunteer that stopped by their place 10 years ago. I also did it because since biking is the only way I can leave village, I’ve started getting into it a lot more. I’ve done a couple bike tourneys with the peace corps volunteers in the area where we would bike 100+ km in 5 days so I thought I could handle it. 

Well the bike ride came with ups and downs (literally). Just like life, going up the hills was a major pain in the butt, but going down them was so much fun. Up side: the scenery, monkey sightings in the distance, and the master farmers family. The down side can only be described in three (or mayby two...?) words: tse tse flies. These ass holes are all over the Saraya region and swarm you especially if you’re alone in the middle of the bush. Their bite hurts almost like a bee sting and they just love to burrow into your chacos just to sting you in the same place over and over again. They were there going to Nafadji and ESPECIALLY on the way back (me being tired and the strong sun didn’t help the situation either). Despite the flies trying their best to ruin my trip, the scenery was incredible. The Saraya region is pretty but there isn’t really a landscape until you start heading towards Guinea. Nafadji happens to to be almost on the border of Guinea therefore on the way there I was blessed with a great view of their blue ridge mountains. 

The fam chilling after lunch 

Anyways, this master farmer and Nafadji was worth all that biking. The Senegalese are the most hospitable people I know and they treat their guests like VIPs. When I came rolling in with my tse tse fly posse the master farmer was there waiting for me by the breakfast stand. He walked my bike over to his home where his grand children and wife were there chilling outside in the shade. He gave me breakfast and coffee and then showed me his new field where he single handedly outplanted over a hundred mango and cashew trees. We went back to his house to eat lunch and watch TV in the shade and then I was on my way back. That whole stay was very humbling and him and his family really made an effort to make my time there comfortable. 

As I write this my legs and arms are pretty sore, but a good kind of of sore because I did something different that day. I’m one year in my service and staying in village can be hard because nothing much ever goes on in a town of 200 people. So hopefully I can work up the courage to get on my bike and see more Kedougou before I leave! 

Lightning Strikes

More or less what Kedougou looks like during the rainy season

The rainy season can be difficult because roads in Kedougou get flooded, huts fall down due to intense rainfalls, and the humidity is so thick you can cut it with a knife. However, one occurrence that I took for granted was lightning strikes. The people in my village blame that on modern technology, such as solar panels sitting outside huts and the “reseau “ (cell service) coming from smartphones. But it was a mid- September, the time of the year when lightning decorates the sky everyday, a dangerous strike actually happened in Fode binea.

Aftermath

I was sitting in my hut at 8 am and rolling thunder was roaring outside when it hit. Everything turned white and the thunderclap that followed it was so loud the ground shook. I felt the hairs on my body standing from the electricity in the air. Five seconds later I heard screams coming from the women in my compound and all the men rushing out. I stepped outside into the pouring rain to see that a hut was stuck by lightning about 30 yards away from mine.

The fire was so huge that nothing could calm it down. The heat radiating from it was so intense I could feel it while standing next to my hut. The men were there trying to see if anyone was inside while the women started yelling Malinke prayers to consol themselves and others. I knew who lived there, so I was crying with them. The crying was so real and in unison that the fear and shock was evenly spread amongst all those present.

I'm happy to say that no one was inside when it happened. Noone was hurt, and once that was realized,  everyone came together in front of the hut to comfort the family, say prayers, and sacrifice a goat as a message to God to not strike the village again.

And from then on, lightning hasn’t struck Fode Binea. But I’ll never forget watching that hut burn to the ground and crying with the women. Even though this was a horrible thing that happened in a village I call my home, it actually made me feel more apart of my community. When that hut got struck, everyone felt that shock together, not just the person that owned it. In Fode Binea when something bad happens to one person, it happens to everyone.

Malaria Bike Tourney 2019

Kedougou (where my site is) has one of the highest
 incidences of Malaria in Senegal 

Happy rainy season from Kedougou! Good news: Kedougou is hands-down the prettiest region in Senegal with a sea of green covering every inch of the place, Bad news: Malaria. Rainy season is when mosquitos breed and come out just to sting people and transmit Malaria…especially in Kedougou where the humidity brings in all those thirsty critters. Actually, Kedougou has one of the highest incidences of Malaria in the whole country (more than 25% of the population gets it!). So, Peace Corps has a nifty program called STOMP Malaria Senegal where volunteers are encouraged to train their communities on Malaria prevention. But because Peace Corps volunteers like to be competitive, they made a two-week long competition called Malaria Fort-nights where volunteers can rack up points for every Malaria-related activity they do in their communities. In light of potentially winning TONS of money (like 50 bucks…) currently every volunteer in every region in Senegal are trying to do as many Malaria-related activities as possible. My work-zone happened to do a week-long Malaria Bike Tourney where all five of us biked to each one of our sites to do one activity. Throughout this week I biked 108 km just to spread the work about Malaria.

Site #1: Saroudia (40 km bike ride)

I mean...look at this view! 

Mind you, I’ve NEVER biked 40 km in my life and it was about 95 degrees and humid that day. But the scenes during the ride made up for all the extreme exhaustion. We arrived to that site with sun burns, numb legs, and dripping sweat but happy because no one comes here because it’s so out of the way (sorry Andrew). Saroudia is a hidden gem with its diverse vegetation and scenic hills.

Here we did a talk to a group of mothers of the importance of their children sleeping under mosquito nets. We also taught them on how to fix their mosquito nets to fit around their beds better.

Site #2: Daikha Madina (13 km bike ride)

One of us talking about the importance of
sleeping under a mosquito net

For this we were planning on taking a car at 8 am to the Road Town, Saraya, and then bike to Daikha Madina (13km), but we woke up to rain that morning so we didn’t leave until 11am. We made it into Saraya though, bought Pringles, and headed straight to site #2.

After eating our lunch and then the Pringles we did Mosquito Bed Net checks. We visited about five house holds to check if their mosquito were there. Almost every household did have their nets hung up, so that’s awesome.

Site # 3: Fode Binea (21 km bike ride)  

There's me in the middle making soil! 

This is my site!!! It’s actually 5 km away from site #2, but we wanted to bike 13 km to the road town to pick up breakfast sandwiches and then bike 8 km to my site, totaling a whopping 21 km.

For my site, I decided to do a training on how to eliminate standing water that sit outside people’s huts. Standing water is a breeding ground for mosquitos and is especially harmful if it happens to be right next to their bedrooms. I also did a training on how to transform any open container into a mini garden that can produce basil and mint. The participants found it useful and were especially happy to receive basil seeds!

Site #4: Bembou (21 km bike ride)

Daiken showing off her new clothes!

Before doing site #4, we took about a three-day break to celebrate Tabaski (Eid Al-Adha) with our host families. This is a celebration about Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son to God, but instead of his son a lamb was sacrificed. For this holiday, we dressed up in new clothes and enjoyed eating sheep all day long. 

After that, the work zone got back together and biked all the way to Bembou (21 km) to talk about the cost of having Malaria. The talk explained that the cost of having severe malaria can hinder costs for food and clothes needed for the family. We also discussed how preventing getting severe Malaria is possible and should be practiced.

Site #5: Saraya (13 km bike ride) 

We biked from Bembou to Saraya and chilled with the family hosting us. Our lunch was hands-down the best Cheb (rice) I’ve had in Kedougou. We had boiled carrots, sweet potato, cabbage, sheep, onions, and bitter tomato on top of perfectly seasoned oily rice. I wish I took a picture, but I was too busy stuffing my face.

After our Cheb nap, we went around the neighborhood and did a trash clean up. Believe it or not, trash on the street breeds mosquitos and is a major source of malaria. We had some kids help us and they seemed like it!

Following the trash clean up, we did a radio show to talk about malaria and give tips on how to prevent it. Radio is always fun because we get to play American music and greet our host families. But tonight was special because “Dancing in the Moonlight” by King Harvest came on right before we left and for some reason we all broke out into a dance party... even a random Senegalese guy came to join in on the fun! 

So it was 108 km of spreading the word about Malaria, all done in Malinke (the local language). It was exhausting mentally and physically but I had fun exploring the Saraya region and meeting more locals. Totally worth the sore legs! 

Jinoo

On a cool rainy season day in Kedougou (90 degrees!), I was at my friend Karamba’s house in village catching up and drinking tea. We were talking about  how someone in my compound was sick, and I asked him how she got it. He looked at me and half joking he said a “Jinoo” gave it to her while she was in the bush. This sounded weird, and with my language not being where it’s supposed to be, I tried to have him explain to me what a “Jinoo” was. Over the course of an hour, him and some other people in my village tried to explain it to me in a way I could understand... but I kept on hitting a brick wall. I felt like I was playing 20 questions trying to figure what a damn “Jinoo” was. 

Karamba said it’s something that lurks in the bush and it can see you but you can’t see it. He went on to say that it can do good things for you if you want it to, but if you’re scared of it, it will give you diseases. In fact it’ll come to your house and physically hand you a disease. On the other hand, if you’re not scared of it, it will give you a special medicine that helps you become rich with gold, cows, and sheep. This description made no sense to me and I couldn’t tell if he was talking about

My dog Booga sniffing out those bush spirits 

something mythical or real at this point. But then he said it’s as tall as a tree and dogs can see it but humans can’t. Ok, so it’s mythical... but I still didn’t figure it out. I could feel everyone getting annoyed at me for not understanding. Someone else chimed in and said that it’s white and only sits in trees.

Is it an animal? No. 

Does it bite people? No! 

Someone else exclaimed that it only grabs children when they’re out in the bush at night. Another pointed at me and said that it saw me while I was biking to the nearest Road Town the other day ago. I asked if this was in America too, and they all nodded yes. This thing is everywhere at all times. 

Finally someone took their phone out and showed me a video of a “Jinoo” and then everything fell into place. The video showed a white mist coming out of the ground that proceeded to chase down a random person just wondering around in the forest. After all their hard work, and after getting frustrated at myself for not picking up a lot of what they were saying, I FINALLY discovered that they were talking about a ghost. “Jinoo” in Malinke means genie! 

It occurred to me that describing a ghost in English would also be difficult to someone that doesn’t speak the language well. But how the people in my village understand ghosts and spirits like these is completely different than how Americans understand them. Growing up, ghosts would be something lurking under my bed or in the basement, but here it only exists in the forest. The people in my village believe that ghosts can either help or hurt you, while at home they just symbolize dead souls coming back to haunt people. It’s incredible how different cultures perceive things, but now I’ll have to watch out when I’m in the bush wondering around...because there’s a Jinoo watching every step I make! 

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Senegalese Chicken Soup

Senegalese diets are very monotonous. In village, everyday for lunch we usually have rice or crushed up corn with loose peanut sauce (watered down peanut butter with veggies or left over meat boiled in) and for dinner it’s more or less the same thing but with millet porridge instead. This could be because my host family doesn’t have much else other than rice, millet, corn and peanuts, but it can also be because they simply prefer to have meals they’re used to. 

Chicken coop is right there..

So in a desperate attempt to diversify our food, I tried to make a chicken dish for everyone in my family...a risky move especially since they can be critical about any dish other than their own. However, since a cold was spreading, I thought chicken soup would be appropriate. So I bought the loudest rooster from the chicken coop literally outside my front door (note the picture below), because that thing cock-a-doodle-doos all night long and doesn’t stop. Next I asked for some onions from my host moms garden and then bought macaroni and oil from the nearest road town, about 5 miles away. 

My host brother killed the chicken right there in front of my hut and then handed it to his kids so they can remove the feathers and chop it up. The children are always tasked with these things, and they just love to scare their token Peace Corps volunteer with the chickens intestines! 

The women in my village cook just using a fire on the ground with three big rocks surrounding it where the pot sits. Since I’m not familiar with cooking like that, I had my host sister help me. I chopped the onions up and she washed and seasoned the chicken before throwing it in a pot with water and oil. She told me to add the pasta and onions when the chicken is “ready” before she left to go hang out with her sisters. I don’t usually cook meat at home, so I added the onions and pasta the minute the water started to boil thinking that the chicken was cooked enough. She came back 15 minute later and saw that they were added way too early and exclaimed that the meat has to cook for at least an hour. She shrugged and said that we’ll just have to see what happens after an hour goes by. I’ve never had pasta boiled for an HOUR, so this was a new experience for everyone involved. 

The end product!

An hour later, we came back and the pasta was SO boiled it turned into mush. It looked like straight up vomit with huge chunks of chicken in it. My host sister looked at it and shook her head. But then we tasted it, and it actually tasted awesome. The pasta mush had a hardy texture and the chicken and onions were cooked just enough to make it all taste like a chicken Alfredo sauce. We passed the dish around with bread  to everyone, and it was a hit! “A diyatta” and “I nin che” was called out to me, which translates to “Its delicious! Thank you.”

Even though I messed up, this is probably one of my proudest moments in village. And that night, I got to sleep in silence since that rooster became everyone’s dinner. 

Medically Cleared!

Attempted to make microwave popcorn by putting popcorn kernels in a brown bag. The bag ended up catching fire in the microwave, and it just so happened that my name was on it! 

So I’ve made a record...two whole months in Sick Bay. The burn took its time, but it’s (almost) done healing and I just arrived back in Kedougou. I could feel the instant change in temperature the minute the night bus going there left Dakar. It’s hot season, but Dakar is untouched by it because the area has its own special weather due to its proximity to the ocean. Goodbye 75 and breezy, hello 110 and greasy. 

Looking back, being in Sick Bay for such a long time had its ups and downs. Up side: I got to know a lot of volunteers that came in for medical reasons, including another Kedougou volunteer that stayed for a while because of a broken heal. Also...I’m not gonna lie, but the food in Dakar was bougie. I put all the pics of Dakar food in nice collage below ;) 

Down side: literally sitting and waiting for my burn to heal so I can go back to site. I was so obsessed about it’s progress, I even searched scientific articles about how burns heal and why it takes so long. So now I know EVERYTHING about granulation tissue, rate of epithiliazation, exudate, slough, debridement, inflammation, necrosis, and scar formation. I didn't like missing out on trainings and projects in Kedougou, and even though it's not my fault, I felt guilty for being in Dakar when I was supposed to be at site.

Say hi to Ami the cat!

So far I’ve spent half my service in Dakar, but it wasn’t time wasted. I became an unofficial intern at the headquarters and worked on small grants and monitoring and evaluation stuff. I also got to know the Peace Corps volunteers working there, and had the opportunity to pet sit their (very large) cat for a night with the other Kedougou volunteer! 

Overall, it’s been a trip. I’m back in Kedougou though, and ready continue!