Fire in the hole!

Have I told you the story where I almost set my hut on fire? I don't think so, here we go. I do have a sort of stove in my hut. It is a gas tank with a little burner on top. I think I will mainly be using it to boil water in the morning for my tea and oatmeal, possibly to make hard-boiled eggs for dinner. I'd like to think that eventually I will get more ambitious; however, my first stove experience was slightly on the terrifying side. It may take several weeks (or months) for me to get over. 

The first day I got to site, one of my sisters helped me put my little stove together. All looked well and good and I was happy to think that when I needed my stove, it would be ready to suit all of my culinary needs. I believe it was day four when I gave cooking (I use the term loosely, I really was just trying to boil water) a try. So, I lit my match, set it on the burner (I am really not a fan of hot things, especially fire), and turned the knob on the tank to light the burner. The next thing I know, there are flames three feet high shooting up out of my stove. Did I mention that I live in a hut with a roof made out of dry grass? I had visions of my entire hut going up in flames, along with all of the belongings I lugged over from America, leaving me homeless and penniless. 

Needless to say, I screamed. Shrieked, really. I'm sure that my entire compound heard me and thank god, because about 10 seconds later there were five people on my doorstep ready to save me. I think we figured out the problem (gas leak, I didn't screw something into the tank enough), and the next morning I made the best tasting cup of tea I've had in a while. I hope Africa will help me get over my fear of fire. 

Asalaa maalekum,

Rachel

Med Hut

I am still here in the med hut in Dakar. I'm cleared to go back to site as of Wednesday, but I'm a little nervous about getting myself back to Tambacounda via public transportation. One of my friends is coming into med tomorrow and I think I'm going to hang around here until she is cleared to go back so we can undertake the journey together. Hopefully it won't be more then a few days. If it is, I guess I'll have to bite the bullet and brave the journey alone. 


I have gotten to know the area surrounding the Peace Corps office pretty well since I've been here. It's in a nice area of Dakar, with a nice bakery, a supermarket, a bank and some restaurants very near by. Even though I haven't been feeling that well, I've been trying to take a long walk everyday to get myself more comfortable with the city of Dakar. 


A funny thing happened to me on one of these walks. I stopped at a fruit/vegetable stand to buy some bananas to cut up and put in my daily morning cereal. I approached the vender, greeted him in Pulaar and proceed to ask him for 3 bananas. Or so I thought I was asking for bananas. I wasn't paying all that much attention to what he was doing, I was too busy watching my bag and the comings and goings of the Senegalese people on the street. I payed my 300 CFA and continued on my way back to the Peace Corps office. When I returned, I went into the kitchen to put my purchase away, all the while feeling very pleased with myself that I was able to take on this small errand all by myself. All of a sudden, as I went into my bag to get my bananas, I realized that what I actually had was a bag full of tomatoes! Apparently, we had a slight breakdown in communication. Oh language barriers and the fun stories and scenarios they create. It's a good thing I like tomatoes, otherwise i would have been really disappointed. It just gave me an excuse to take another walk later in the day, this time I made sure to check the bag for my fruit before I left. 


Being in the med hut has been interesting. There was a conference in Dakar for the Eco-T (Eco-Tourism) volunteers last week, so I got to meet some volunteers that I hadn't seen before. I've also gotten to know the Peace Corps office a lot better. I'm very happy to report that every Peace Corps staff member I've encountered thus far has been incredibly helpful. From what I hear, I should even have a bed upon my return to site. You all have no idea how much that thrills me. 


As I figure out how I will make the return journey to site, I will continue to enjoy the luxury of the med hut. Air conditioning and high speed internet, what more could a PCV ask for? Happy Memorial Day to all my American friends. I'm slightly bummed that I'm not home to celebrate with you, but I'll just have to make my own fun here. I feel a trip to the American club for some swimming and some good old fashioned BBQ is in order for today. 


Asalaa maalekum,
Rachel

Rocky

Install was...rocky and awkward. But I'm told that if it isn't awkward, something is wrong, so I'll take solace in that. I'm happy to report that I did not run after the Peace Corps car as it drove away; however, I may have had a teensy tiny panic attack in the backseat of the car as we were driving down the bush path to my village. No worries, nothing that breathing into a paper bag can't solve. And isn't that also why they invented big sunglasses? To hide all emotions and feelings in one's eyes? For now, I'm leaning towards yes. 


My family seems to be very nice, at least I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt until I understand more of the language. Speaking of language, my limited understanding of Pulaar has been by far the most frustrating part of my install. To say we're having communication issues would be an understatement. 


The best example of this would be my lack of a bed. I arrived in village hoping that my family would have built me a cement bed like I asked them to. I was slightly dissapointed to find that this was not the case. The first three nights I slept in my backyard, on a therma-rest, inside my tent. This may be explaining the obvious, but it was HOT! I should have realized that the name "therma-rest" implies warmth. After the third night, I just couldn't do it anymore and I slept just on the concrete floor of my hut. Not a perfect solution, but a slightly better scenario if you ask me. I was not sleeping with mosquito netting however, and although its not the season, wouldn't it be just my luck if I came down with a case of Malaria.


I'm currently in Dakar, in the med hut (again! stupid medical problems!) and I'm really hoping that when I get back to village, there will be a bed for me. Keep your fingers crossed for me please!


Also when I return, I'm hoping that an older, more experienced PCV will be able to do some translating for me. I need to figure out how much I should be paying to my family as a monthly contribution, as well as who specifically I should be paying it to. I'm also hoping that with this exchange of money (or kaalis in Pulaar) I might be able to get some help in return. I'd really like it if someone could help me out with water on a daily basis. The village well is pretty far from my family compound, and I'm not quite at a point where I can carry a full bucket of water on my head (I'm hoping I'll be able to work up to that). I'm also hoping that we can make some sort of arrangement for laundry. I've been trying to do it myself, but I'm not sure how clean my clothes are actually getting. I feel like I'm pretty much just letting them sit in soapy water for a while and then trying to rinse out as much soap as possible. I'm not sure if I'm really making any difference in the cleanliness of my clothes at all. 


I'm trying my best to integrate into my family life as much as possible. Right now that means a lot of sitting around and smiling and nodding at people. I'm making a concerted effort to spend as little time as possible alone in my hut. When I read, I make sure it's out in the open. When I nap, I make sure that I am also out in the open. I'm having a little trouble with the napping thing. I often wake up to find children staring at me. It's a little disconcerting, but I'm sure I'll get used to it. 


As I mentioned before, I am once again in the med hut in Dakar. That was a hard one to explain to my host family. Hey, I've only been here for 6 days, but I gotta jet now. Sorry. The conversation when something like this: 


Me: Hannde, mbido jogii Tamba sabu jango, mi yahat Dakar. Mbido sokli yiide cafoorowo o sabu mi sellani. (Translation: Today, I have to go to Tamba because Tomorrow I have to go to Dakar. I need to see a doctor because I am unwell.)
Moussa (my host brother): ?!?!?!?!?!
Me: I don't know what you're saying, but I have to get on my bike and ride to Tamba now. 


At this point in the conversation, my bike was physically taken from me and I was made to wait while one of my family members biked into Tamba (10k) to find my counterpart and bring him back to my village. I'm not totally sure what the whole point of that was, since I could only tell him the exact same thing I had told Moussa. They finally had to call Pape, our Tamba PCV support staff member, and ask him to translate. I did feel bad though, especially when my counterpart (Sadjo) asked when I would be back and I had to tell him that I didn't know. "One day, two days, three days?" He asked me. "Mi annda," (I don't know) I replied. 


I was lucky yesterday in that I did not have to face Senegal public transport by myself. Three PCVs from Kedougou were also headed into med and they stopped in Tamba to pick me up. Vonnie, one of our fantastic Peace Corps Medical Officers (PCMO) authorized us to rent out an entire sept-place just for the four of us (usually they hold 7 people). Unfortunately, that will probably be the most comfortable sept-place ride I experience in Senegal. 


Blood tests today, doctor tomorrow. I'll be here at least until Saturday so I'm told. 


Asaala maalekum,
Rachel