Good News and Bug News

give these boys a safe place to poop!

Good news first: my latrine building grant was approved yesterday! The wonderful organization Water Charity has fronted the money so that construction can begin ASAP. The latrine project is totally community-driven and will hopefully end open defecation in the village - aka everyone will have somewhere to poop inside their own homes. Just in time for the holidays - it's the most wonderful time of the year! You can help out here!

this is NOT the scorpion that stung me (phew)

Bug news second: I got stung by a scorpion yesterday! Ouch! I was walking (read: dancing barefoot) in my backyard when a red-hot pain struck my big toe. I looked down to see... nothing in the sand and ran to wash the sand off, revealing ... nothing on my foot. Meanwhile, my toe is swelling and pain is moving through the arch of my foot, down to each of my toes, and I'm starting to panic thinking of all the possible things that could've sunk their teeth into me. While I'm on the phone with the doctor the pain moves from my foot through my right leg and into my back and I start thinking very sinister and panicky thoughts.

Thankfully my sitemate and personal hero came to pick me up and calm me down and after a while we figured it was just a scorpion bite and treated it with ice, benadryl, and acetaminophen accordingly. It's healing beautifully. The scorpion encounter has been added to the ever-growing list of injuries, infestations, and infections I've seen in Senegal due to my exposure to bugs. In fact, during my first months here I contracted so many weird "bug diseases" that my peers happily and easily elected my Peace Corps memoir title: A Bug's Life.

I've debated for a long time whether or not to share my health issues with you, my blog audience. On the one hand, I find it incredibly interesting and sort of hysterical in a sad way. On the other hand, publicizing private health issues is a classic hallmark of a volunteer who has been in country too long and completely forgotten which boundaries should and should not be crossed. My compromise is to make a list and let any interested parties investigate on their own.

Here goes nothing!

During my training months, I was blessed with: cutaneous larva migrans (aka slithering disaster), head lice (thanks host family!), dermaophytosis (ringworm), bed bugs (they stayed for a quick four months), and now my scorpion sting. BUT far and away, my most interesting and most horrifying encounter with a bug was with Maggie, my mango fly. If you dare, skip down to the treatment section on the wikipedia page and imagine dealing with that, alone, your first week in Peace Corps. And if you're not totally grossed out by mango flies, check these cupcakes out. Yes, that's just what little Maggie, my maggot, looked like!

From Home to Home

bean harvest - the most wonderful time of the year

I recently went on a 10,000 mile journey: I left my Senegalese home to visit my American one! While in the United States, I ate myself silly, luxuriated in bathtubs, and, of course, spent precious time with my stateside friends and family. It was a dizzying time of freedom and choices - like do I want hot or cold water to come out of this sink? (?!?!?) Overall it was incredibly relaxing and energizing. It also brought to light the gaps in knowledge that people have about my life as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

mom making dinner, looking angry

Allow me to explain my life in a nutshell. I am a Peace Corps Volunteer, which means I’ve dedicated 26 months of my life to service in a country outside the United States. As of now, I have only about five months remaining. (!!!) I’ve spent the past 21 months in a Wolof village (population: 350) in rural Senegal, West Africa. My technical work involves health education but I consider my most important job that of a sort of cultural broker. I speak a language called Wolof all day, every single day. I wear West African clothing, I celebrate Senegalese holidays, I exchange Muslim greetings, and I eat Wolof food.

nature walk

Prior to my trip to the states, I often lamented how little my host family understands about the US. (Host mom: “Do you have ice in America? Charettes? Watermelons?”) At this point I feel very close to my host family, especially my moms, and I think if they understood the first 23 years of my life, I would make a lot more sense to them. I want the cultural exchange to go both ways, but just talking to them about life in the US is nothing compared to the experience I’m getting living life in Senegal. Also, it’s hard to diplomatically explain that everyone I know in the US has electricity and ice (and cars and roads, etc) without making us sound like a bunch of super privileged jerks.  

that one time my cat caught and ate a squirrel

It was a bit jarring to realize upon my arrival in the states that American people know just as little about Senegal (“Where is that again?”) and virtually nothing about village life (“Why don’t they speak English?”). I guess I had forgotten how little I knew before I came. I realized that just because Americans have the internet at hand at every second of every day doesn’t mean they are or should be experts on Senegal. Then I realized I was suddenly tasked with the job of explaining an entire culture in sixty seconds or less and I might as well explain it in Wolof if that was all the time I got.

it rained finally! peanuts ready for harvest.

That’s how I found myself, even while sitting in front of a plate of eggs benedict and a bloody mary, feeling discontent. I felt like a cultural orphan, not quite fitting in in Senegal but not quite belonging in the US either. Fast forward to my overdue, triumphant return back to village in which mobs of people crushed me with and in their happiness. Finally I understood that my Peace Corps dream was and is being realized because now I have two countries, two homes, four mothers, and five more months to enjoy my village.

triumphs abound!!!

When my (American) father used to edit my high school essays, he critiqued me for my tendency to go over the top in the concluding paragraph. I tended to insert some grandiose optimistic statements to end the writing on an unnaturally high note. Well, dad, this post proves that old habit die hard. And if Peace Corps isn’t a time for you to turn your struggles into triumphs, I don’t know what is.

Malnutrition, Ebola, Malaria, Oh My!

repairing an old malaria bed net

For those of you who have been anxiously awaiting updates on the actual technical work I do in Senegal, today is your day! My official title in Peace Corps is a Preventative Health Education Volunteer with a focus on malaria, child and maternal health, and water and sanitation. When I first arrived in my village, just about everyone (myself included) was a bit confused about my role in the community. If I’m a health volunteer, where are my prescription pad and medical supplies? If I’m an education volunteer, why am I not formally partnered with the village school? Above all, why would any white-skinned American move to rural West Africa if not to build new buildings, distribute free supplies, or just hand out cash money?

nutrition - where's the veggies?

The role I play as a health worker has slowly become more defined during the past sixteen months (although some people are still just waiting for the cash). The most pressing health issue that I see in my village is malnutrition, which presents in a cycle. Babies are born small and underweight, and then grow into girls with nutrient poor diets and lives of hard physical labor who then become pregnant while their bodies are still developing, resulting in the birth of a new generation of small babies. The cycle of malnutrition is like that rambling sentence of a description –convoluted, unrelenting, and difficult to get a handle on. It’s also heartbreaking.

the fattest new baby I've seen in a long while

“I had never been an emotional sort of person, but now I felt all my defenses against sadness being stripped away,” recounts Ecuadorian Peace Corps Volunteer Moritz Thomsen in his book Living Poor. I feel the same way when, prying into the lives of my family and community members, I find that every woman has felt the impact of malnutrition on their pregnancies, their babies, their births. You’d be hard pressed to find a woman who has not experienced the death of a child whether at birth, during the first few days of life, or the first months and years. I have been alongside these women long enough to experience a handful of these deaths myself and believe me when I say my heart has broken every single time. What is my role in these situations as a health worker, as a friend, as a daughter?

weighing babies! whee!

The Senegalese Ministry of Health’s response to the situation has been to implement monthly growth monitoring events in which all children under two years of age are weighed and measured. These events have a long history in my village and are conducted with admirable regularity and with high attendance rates. Once a month all the moms trek to the health hut where my (unpaid) counterpart weighs the babies and tracks their progress on a color-coded chart – green for healthy babies, yellow for moderately malnourished, and red for severely malnourished. I was duly impressed by these events but noticed a glaring problem while talking to the women afterwards – not one could converse to me about the health status of her baby.

the nutrition map

I realized that the mothers viewed malnutrition as a problem that only doctors can identify and solve, not an issue that women themselves have control over. But how to shift the feelings of accountability and responsibility to the women taking care of the babies? I made a map. Women who never finished primary school, which is the vast majority of mothers in my village, felt unqualified to read the charts tracking weight. I simplified the record keeping down to one piece of construction paper per baby per month on a big map of our village. It’s great for women to compare and contrast the different households and different individual mothers. Now at our baby weighings women linger and chat, posing theories about why certain babies have lost or gained weight, offering advice to mothers of struggling babies, and smiling over the good health of their own children. The map great for the health workers too, as it facilitates the tracking of malnourished kids over time and geographically.

monitor lizard for lunch!

The nutrition map is an example of one small scale project I have enacted to combat one of the large scale problems facing my village. I’ve learned to be proud of small changes and find meaning in my daily conversations about various health topics. 

Also - Ebola in Senegal. Thankfully it has not spread past the one isolated case in the capital city. The upside of Ebola's presence in country is that people are more excited than ever about hand washing. The downside of Ebola's presence in country is that villagers are no longer eating so-called "bush meat." Aka I've been watching the fattest monitor lizards crawl all around my backyard and no matter how much I salivate, my family refuses to kill and cook them. Rats! I appreciate that they are heeding public health warnings, but personally I am mourning the loss of one of this season's tastiest treats. 

Belated Birthday Wishes

Ngar Gueye September 2013

 Last September the fields surrounding my village were looking lush - millet stalks were waist high, peanut plants covered the ground, and the baobab trees finally had leaves. Rainy Season 2013 sprinkled in June, rained sporadically in July, and was pouring regularly by August. After a few months of hot dry hot season in early 2014 I was ready once again to embrace the humidity and the insects of rainy season. But after one crazy rain in early June, I saw a whole lot of nothing coming from the sky. By the time August rolled around, everyone in my village was seriously worried.

Ngar Gueye August 2014

Every household relies on their crops to fill their lunch bowls and their harvest to fill their wallets for the entire year. No rain means no peanuts, no millet, no beans, no baobab fruit, no bissap flowers, no corn. I asked my mother Ndeye Kante if there had been previous years of drought and what happened. "Metti na, xiif na," was her response. "It was hard, we were hungry." Men in my village have been having emergency prayer sessions at the mosque and women have been organizing outlandish rain dances.


To do my part, I'm requesting help from my fellow Americans - to do whatever y'all feel is appropriate. Envision green fields, pray to an appropriate power, listen to Toto a few times, dance for rain, anything you want. I turned 25 years old last week and all I want for my birthday this year is a real rainy season. Thank you!

Also this: http://www.cdc.gov/vhf/ebola/pdf/west-africa-outbreak-infographic.pdf

So far, so good in Senegal. 

Mom in Senegal!

just two little ladies in the big city

Did you know that John F. Kennedy created three goals to explain the purpose of the Peace Corps, back in the day? The first goal is to help the people of interested countries in meeting their needs for skilled workers. The second goal is to help promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of peoples served. The third goal is to help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans. At the end of June my mother graciously assisted me in my second and third goal work with a two week trip to Senegal!

a lion named tiger

It was an exciting adventure starting in Dakar, where we had a joyous reunion at the airport after fifteen months apart! We went to the beach and climbed the African Renaissance Monument and eased ourselves into Senegalese cuisine at our super trendy hotel. From Dakar we went south to a roadside town called Toubacouta. Toubacouta is possibly my favorite place in all of Senegal because it is beautiful yet quiet, attracts very few tourists, and has gorgeous waterfront vistas on the Sine-Saloum delta, where the Senegal River meets the Atlantic Ocean.

part of the family

We swam in the salty delta water around the mangrove forests, took a boat ride to Shell Island, watched the sun set over the water, and drove out to Fathala Wildlife Reserve. At the reserve we saw tortoises and walked with two lions! The lions were born in South Africa and brought to Senegal as cubs. We walked with a brother and sister pair who are currently two years old. They were nice enough to allow us to pet their backs, feel their paws, and take lots of photos. My mother's school mascot is the Flying Lions, so I hope her students aren't disappointed at the lack of wings on these guys.

salty delta water and mangrove forests

After a relaxing few days on the coast, we traveled inland towards my village in the Kaolack region. I got maybe a little too much enjoyment from introducing my mother to the rough roads of Senegal, the excitement of traveling in a car that could literally just fall to pieces at any second, and sitting her and her fancy rolling luggage atop a horse drawn cart to get to my home. Everyone in my village was overjoyed to welcome my mother and we spent five days greeting my friends and family. In between never-ending greeting sessions, we took walks, did some health work, visited French and Arabic schools, and got first row seats at our local polling station!

can you spot the toubab?

On June 29th there were nationwide elections throughout Senegal and we had a polling station set up for the 114 registered voters of my village. I was so excited to see democracy in action in my little village! The ballots are color coded and outfitted with visual aides because a lot of the voting population is illiterate. But that did not slow the process at all - political debates were held in every house and almost every single person with a voter identification card showed up to vote. My mom and I showed up when the polls closed and were given seats in the room where the ballots were counted. In a ridiculously close race, the party I was backing lost. All in all, I had great fun participating.

three ferocious felines

I had hoped that we could stick around for the beginning of Ramadan, but Allah did not will it this trip. I think Allah was sympathizing with my mother for being such an incredible guest for her two week stay. I can't exaggerate how many times I was impressed by her energy and enthusiasm in the face of heat, sickness, confusion, overstimulation, and exhaustion. (Not to say that Senegal isn't a lovely place to visit!) She was such a trooper and she impressed everyone she met with her Wolof, her energy, her dance moves, and the list goes on. I feel very lucky to have such a wonderful woman in my life and doubly lucky to introduce her to my three host mothers here in Senegal. Thanks for taking the time, energy, money, and patience to come visit, mom!

Supporting Girls' Education !!!

primary school kids and their headmaster

The end of the school year is coming up next week, which means it is exam time for the oldest class at the primary school in my village. After passing the exam with flying colors, the kids will move to our closest secondary school, which is about five kilometers away on a sandy path. They’ll find friends or relatives to live with for the school year because there is no regular transportation on that road. Last week I accompanied the students to the secondary school for a practice exam and got a glimpse of just how hard they each work to pursue their education. 

view from a charette

Maymouna, a girl who’s around 10 years old, had to get up extra early the morning of the exam to eat an early breakfast and walk a kilometer to arrive at the primary school in my village by 7:30. She hopped on a charette, a flat wooden cart pulled by a horse, along with 9 other students and 2 teachers. After bumping along the sandy road for fifteen minutes, the charette got a flat tire and the passengers got the boot. Weighed down by the knowledge that she would be late for the practice exam, Maymouna was now traveling by foot and walking through deep sand in the hot sun. One kilometer later, they arrived in a small village and borrowed a new charette to finish the trip. The new charette was in disrepair and Maymouna’s pens and notebooks fell through its holes while the dirt from field work clung to her white complet, a nice outfit she had worn for her first trip to her soon-to-be new school.

primary school kids telling stories

Finally the group arrived at the secondary school - tired because of the walk and hungry because most kids only had a cup of coffee for breakfast. Maymouna then sat through an entire day of testing capped by an evening charette ride back to her primary school followed by the walk back to her village. And then the next day she woke up and did it all again.

girls at school!

What I realized about Maymouna and the other students in her class is the incredible level of dedication they uphold in their studies. Education is no easy feat when your home lacks electricity for you to read at night and when, at 10 years old, you are expected to help run a household and work in your father’s fields on your time ‘off.’ Of course the students do not recognize this awe-inspiring work ethic in themselves because they know no other method of living. But hopefully by staying in school, they will get to learn about people and places outside of their corner of Senegal. Girls will learn that they can aspire to have goals outside of the home. Or they can choose to be full-time mothers, but knowledgeable ones that can read to their children and encourage education in the next generation. 

primary school fundrasier

Education, for me, is about giving girls a voice and empowering them to live intentionally, making conscious decisions about their futures. In that vein, I am working with my two neighboring volunteers to facilitate a scholarship program for female students in that secondary school that services my village. The program pairs a monetary contribution with a series of discussions about education with the girls and their families. We are fundraising to pay the annual school fees for 10 students, a total of 200,000 CFA or 100 USD, to ensure these girls stay in school for at least one more year and foster in them a desire to dream big and with confidence. Any donation is welcome – 20 cents can buy a ballpoint pen and 1 dollar can buy a notebook.

TO DONATE: follow the link provided and note in the comments section, This donation is to support MSS scholarships in PCV Kaitlin Hammersley’s village of Ndiago.

https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=685-CFD

THANK YOU, JEREJEF, MERCI BEAUCOUP

Girls, Women, Ladies, Mademoiselles

Ndeye Soda, 13

In honor of Mother’s Day weekend, I am writing a blog post about girls and women in Senegal.

The girl with the deadpan expression and the disembodied lizard tail is my sister, Ndeye Soda. She is approximately thirteen years old, by her mother’s best guess, and is a playful and curious staple of my family. My host mom wakes Ndeye Soda up around 7 am every day so she can rouse and clothe her four younger siblings for breakfast (she’s child number 4 of 8). For half the week Ndeye Soda spends the morning cooking lunch for all twelve members of our family, a process that begins with gathering firewood and ends with scraping rice from the pot. In the afternoon she’ll wash dishes from lunch and start dinner, pausing to bathe and re-clothe all the young kids, pull water, and shell peanuts to seed our father’s field. 

Mbene, 6

Once dinner has been served, eaten, and cleaned up she plays referee for her siblings jostling to get a comfortable spot in their shared bed. When it’s not her turn to cook, Ndeye Soda often spends her time washing the family’s laundry, sweeping the house, working in the fields, and babysitting. On the rare occasion that she has a free hour or two, she will play at our neighbor’s house, take a nap, or steal mangos from our trees. Ndeye Soda went to school to learn to read and write Arabic but never attended the French language public school to learn math, history, science, geography, etc. Instead her mother kept her at home to learn to run a household to prepare for her eventual marriage, which will likely take place in about five years. 

Mame Diarra, 6

Ndeye Soda does not have any qualms about her life; it's the life her mother lived and her mother before that. But I worry about her. What happens when she or her future children get sick and she can't read the instructions on the medication she needs? Will she ever have the opportunity to travel to see the capital of her small country, a mere 100 miles away? Won't she ever be able to understand the nightly news broadcast in French or read her contact list, should she get a cell phone? It makes me sad that Ndeye Soda won't ever read for pleasure or be able to write me a letter. And I know that these are usually the least serious problems that undereducated young women face.  A girl at my local school who is Ndeye Soda's age dropped out last month to be married - two months shy of earning her elementary diploma. 

Sinbacke 2, Mago 5, Mbene 6

Stories like this surround every volunteer in Senegal and often break our hearts. We see little girls with so much curiosity and enthusiasm for the world grow into hard working teenagers that become mothers and hardly get a moment of rest their whole lives. What I'd love to see is girls who go to school and stay in school long enough to learn about themselves and their world. I'd love to see as many girls as boys in high school and at university. 

Peace Corps Senegal is doing two really great things to encourage girls' education. One is a girls' camp that pulls together girls from a wide geographic area for five days of intense education and fun. Each day has a theme (gender, identity, health, environment, and future) to encourage the girls think critically about their futures. At the end of the week they come away with new friends and ideas and we facilitate discussions between the girls and their parents to talk about education and marriage. 

my mother, timeless

The other is a scholarship program that I'll explain next month, when I'll get a visit from my favorite teacher - my mother! I am so excited to show her off as a role model of a successful and educated professional woman who makes a huge difference in the lives of her students. I love you, mom! Happy Mother's Day to you and all other mothers out there.

PS. My mother is also the one who shared with me a video clip of Michelle Obama saying that "education is truly a girls' best chance for a bright future, not just for herself but for her family and her nation." I find this statement particularly applicable to my life now as I work for my nation abroad encouraging women and girls to feel empowered to seek opportunity and education. I can't wait to update y'all on girls camp and scholarships and other gender development work as it unfolds!