“Don’t you have something for me?”

Well, a whirlwind of activites not involving work has just come to an end, so I'll provide a summary. The week before Thanksgiving, my friend Thomas and I decided to do a bike trip from Ngaye to Kaloack. The distance is not too far (140km), and we wanted to visit people along the way, so we didn't exhaust ourselves too badly. All in all it was an absolute blast and I definitely want to do another bike trip in the future. Halfway through the 2nd day (going from Bambey to Fatick), we ran into a kid who exemplified the Wolof attitude better than most.  As we sat on the side of the road taking a small break, a well dressed teenager came up to us on his own bike (and a decently nice one at that).  Once we  had exchanged the typical greetings, the kid just stood there quietly.  After maybe a minute or two, he grew impatient and blurted out “Don’t you have something for me?!?”, as if as toubabs, we simply carried around a large bag of gifts to give to anyone and everyone.  Failing to hide my frustration, I simply told him that we were not going to give him anything, and proceeded to get back in my bike.  As we rolled off, he kept repeating the same thing over and over again: “Why not?”.  It’s this aspect of the culture that I will simply never understand, and will always get frustrated at.  Other than that, the trip went great and I’m glad to have had the time to do it.

After a birthday party in Kaolack, Thomas and I rushed back (by car this time) to our sites to get ready for Thanksgiving.  About 25 volunteers were lucky enough to get invited to the Ambassador’s house for Thanksgiving dinner, and it’s safe to say it wasn’t a disappointment.  A few of us even cooked sides that turned out quite nicely (my group made green bean casserole).  The next morning we were up at 5:30am to get back to our sites, since the following day was Tabaski.  Being the biggest holiday of the year, we all wanted to get back in time to get ready for the event.  For me, this involved helping my host father carry two struggling sheep into a shack, where they would spend their last night.  The next morning, I awoke and had a leisurely breakfast with my mothers and sisters while the men went to the Mosque.  With their return, the show was set to begin.  To avoid freaking anyone out, I will refrain from posting pictures of the actual slaughtering, but you’re interested, let me know and I can send you some wild ones. 

After the slaughter, we went to work cutting up the animals (I helped out by holding a leg here and there in order to give more room for my host brothers to work with).  Soon enough, we  were eating ribs and liver with mashed potatoes, and needless to say, it was pretty tasty (compared to a usual meal here, of course).  Later on we had more meat, and then some more, and then some.  In the evening, people went about town visiting friends and family.  It’s a tradition to ask for forgiveness from the people you know in order to begin a new year on the right foot.  After yet another meat filled dinner, I was pretty tired and called it a night. 

Well, that pretty much summarizes the past week or so.  For now, I’m working on a few things here and there, and will be working with my leather workers to get them ready for the artisanal expo on December 12th-13th.  After that, as you may or may not know, I will be going to TEXAS for the holidays!  Anyways, hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, see you all soon!  

P.S – Pictures are of the middle of nowhere between Ngaye and Bambey (1), me looking on in Baba-Garage (2), Thomas adjusting his bike during a break (notice the size of the Baobab!) (3), preparing to slaughter the sheep (4), and Tabaski dinner with my host family (5).

Softball and baskets…again

It’s been a little while since I’ve written, but all is well here.  I had an extra long stay in Dakar that involved my mid-service physical, a visit with a high ranking Peace Corps official, softball, and shipping baskets.  Softball has become perhaps my favorite thing about Dakar region.  Once every 2 weeks, we get together and play in a recreational league against other expats and some Senegalese teams.  Being by far the least advantaged team on the field (we are usually barefoot and more often than not, a few too many beers in…), I’m happy to say that we’re sitting on a 3-1 record so far.  I guess talent and youth can prevail over dedication.  These games usually go on throughout the winter and culminate the week before WAIST, when we will be in the playoffs, inch Allah . First picture is of my previously nearest neighbor, Daniel, hitting a line drive to center field.  Second picture is Cruger (left), congratulating my stage mate Ankith (right) on a run scored.

 

The work portion of my trip included an 18 hour debacle that was the packing of our container.  As stated in my previous post, our baskets were done and ready to be sent to Dakar for packing and shipping.  Our U.S buyer had asked that a volunteer be at the location of the packing to oversee the process, which I would have done even if she didn’t ask. Through a combination of miscommunication and ineptitude on the part of the containers supervisor, I found myself in Rufisque (a far out suburb of Dakar, seen here in the first picture) at 6:30AM last Thursday for no good reason.  With 3 large trucks full of baskets on the way (or so I thought), one of them made a quick stop to pick me up and take me to where the container actually was.  It was then that I realized it was going to be a long day.

 

To make a long story short, the container HAD to be filled on Thursday, and someone had to stay with it until ALL the baskets were loaded in order to properly lock it once it was full.  While the 1st truck came into Dakar on time, the 2nd and 3rd were not so lucky, with delays of 6 and 12 hours, respectively.  Thus, after filling the container with 2 trucks worth of baskets (see 2nd picture), we waited until 8:30pm, when the last truck rolled in.  Around 10:30pm, we realized we had yet another problem: there wasn’t enough room in the container for all the baskets.  With 82 baskets not being able to fit inside the container, we had to find a place to temporarily store them, which resulted in a late night transport of the baskets to an apartment in Dakar where 5 volunteers live.  In short, it was a extremely stressful and exhausting experience I hope I don’t have to repeat again.  The good news is that the container will be leaving Friday, and consequently our job was successful, if not messy.  The even BETTER news is that one month from today, I will be making a 17 hour trek across the Atlantic to go HOME.  For 2 weeks, I will be basking in the glory of the U.S.A, enjoying the holidays with my family, and eating myself into a comma.  Anyways, for now I’m preparing to take a bike trip to Kaolack with a buddy from my stage.  Upon return, I will head off to Dakar, where the Ambassador is kind enough to be throwing a Thanksgiving party.  2 days later will come Tabaski, so I will rush home for that.  So I’m off to bed now, hope all is well back home and see you all in one month!  Dinaa gis sama waa ker ci ay vacances yi!