One month later...

Bonjour mes amis,

It appears that I've been in Burkina Faso for one month now: I'm feeling a lot more comfortable here, but as I just arrived at my new site less than a week ago, I'm still the new kid in town. It's been an interesting experience simultaneously counting up (one month in Burkina and one week at site) and counting down at the same time (nine months of service left). Sometimes I feel guilty for it, but I think that as long as I remain focused on my work, I'll come out of this experience satisfied with my work.

And I can't complain about working in Bogande! It's much more ofd a town than a village: there are three high schools and even more primary schools, along with a post office and a cyber café! No paved roads, but a tree-lined gravel main street. I have my own house now, right next to the school, with a private courtyard, outdoor shower, two rooms and a covered porch! It's quite a change from the one room I rented from my former host family! My neighbors are super friendly and I'm slowly getting to know them.

Okay, I'm sure I could write more, but my credit is almost up. Happy Thanksgiving if I don't post before then!

I'm in Burkina Faso!

Bonjour!

I finally made it back to Africa. I feel like I can breathe a hugh sigh of relief now that I'm a real Peace Corps volunteer again. I arrived in Ouagadougou on Thursday afternoon after almost 24 hours of traveling. All in all, I was not expecting the trip to be that long. I think when I looked at my e-ticket, all the time zone changes were confusing so I wasn't expecting to be traveling for so long. Could have been worse though; I didn't have any bad flight delays, etc. The country director, a Peace Corps driver, and another volunteer were at the airport to pick me up. I found them right away, which was something I was nervous about. They took me to the "transit house," which is where I've been staying since I arrived. The transit house is a big Peace Corps house with about 20 beds where volunteers can stay when they come into Ouagadougou. It sounds like most volunteers are pretty close to the capital, so they come in about once a month.

On Friday, the Peace Corps office is only open for half a day, so I met everybody in the morning, had a few meetings, and signed some papers. And I got fitted for a bicycle! All Burkina volunteers get their own Trek bike and helmet to use during their service. There's some "community" bikes in the Ouaga, so I've ridden around town a few times and it's so much fun!

Yesterday, I had a language class in the morning. I'm going to be learning Gormantchema, which is in no way related to any language that I currently speak. It's a little frustrating to be starting this whole language-learning process over again, but I know the extent to which local language knowledge can help your service. Tomorrow evening, I'll be moving in with a host family who speaks Gormantchema, which should help facilitate my language learning.

And finally, I got my site assignment as soon as I arrived. I'll be moving to Bogande, which is in the eastern part of the country. It's halfway between two larger towns -- sort of like M'Bout was -- so it's not a tiny village, but not a real city either. I haven't been out there, and probably won't see it until Peace Corps drops me off on November 2, but I'll be visiting villages in the area.

So for now, it's back to Peace Corps life -- slightly different, but still essentially Peace Corps life.

Photo #26

And the winner is...BURKINA FASO! See my posting below. (Photo credit: www.nationsonline.org/oneworld/burkina_faso.htm)

And I'm off! (again)

Wow, I haven't posted since July. I think so much happened between then and now that it just became too overwhelming to try and explain it all. I'm going to attempt to summarize the last two months:
--July 24: I receive a call from Peace Corps while I'm in Kaedi telling me that I need to be in Nouakchott in three days for an "evacuation drill." (I'm already heading that way anyway since I have a flight home on August 6.)
--July 27: All volunteers currently in country leave Nouakchott really early in the morning on a bus to Senegal while a safety and security team from Peace Corps Washington assesses the security situation.
--July 27 - August 6: We all chill in Senegal at Peace Corps Senegal's training center while the team tours around the country to look at security stuff. (I have no idea how this works.)
--August 6: I fly home to AMERICA! Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa pick me up at the airport.
--August 10: I get a call from Peace Corps Washington that the Peace Corps Mauritania program has been suspended (no going back) and that they've closed my service (no direct transfer option).
--August 10 - September 25: I call Peace Corps Washington every day in an effort to get back overseas to finish my service ASAP.
--September 25: I'm assigned to Burkina Faso!
--September 30 - present: My flight has been changed three times from October 8 to October 11 to October 12 to October 14? Is Peace Corps trying to make this difficult?

So I think that just about sums it up. I can't really say that I'm that nervous/excited to leave yet because it hasn't really hit me. I've had so many false alarms that I think I've learned to keep calm until the very last moment. I know that I'll still be working in girls education and that someone from Peace Corps should be at the airport to pick me up. In typical Peace Corps fashion, they haven't told me anything else: what part of the country I'll serve in, what size town/village, will I have a site mate, what local language will I learn? I'm expecting to find out all of that information as soon as I arrive, so I'll let you all know when I get there! Hopefully, that will be soon...

Photo #25

The 2009 M'Bout GMC delegation:  me, Hapsatou, Keri, Nangui, Haya (our mentor), and John.  Most of the conference activities took place here, the Stade Olympique in Nouakchott.

July, July!

So, I haven't done much work this summer, but a lot's been going on. Many volunteers' summer plans changed dramatically when we found out that we wouldn't be welcoming a new class of volunteers mid-June. Normally, Peace Corps Mauritania trains a new class of volunteers over the summer, second-year volunteers close their service at the end of the summer, and everyone helps out at training (first- and second-years). Unfortunately, our new class didn't receive visas from the Mauritanian government and since it's impossible to know when the government will begin issuing visas again, Pece Corps released those new trainees to other programs.
This is bad news for those of us who still have a year left. As it stands now, all second-year volunteers will leave the country by August 6 and since we didn't get newbies, our numbers are essentially cut in half.
All of this I knew before going to girls' conference in Nouakchott. Each year, Peace Corps organizes a conference for GMC girls and mentors to discuss issues pertaining to girls education in Mauritania. It's an honor for the girls, and for many of them, their first time to the capital. John and I were forced to leave M'Bout a day late due to rain (we had to wade across the seasonal river with three girls and a female mentor), but we made it for day 2 of the conference. With girls from around the country, we learned yoga, visited some working women at thier offices, painted, sewed, watched skits, visited the beach, and met girls from centeres around the country. The activities were really well-organized, and despite the stress that ever volunteer was feeling by the end, the girls had a great time. My host sister Nangui, who was one of the girls chosen to attend, couldn't stop talking about it when we got back to M'Bout last week.
During the conference, we did get another important email from Peace Corps concerning an offer of "interrupted service" (IS). Because of a recent murder in Nouakchott, Peace Corps was allowing any one in my class to essentially leave early with all the benefits of two years of service. This offer had a deadline of July 6. For a number of reasons, I decided not to take IS: my previous two-year commitment to Peace Corps service, our newly created mentoring center which would be unmenned if I left, my feeling of safety at site, and my love for my host family and friends. Yesterday, I found out that 21 volunteers did take IS, which means that by August, our program will shrink from 120 volunteers to about 50.
Fewer volunteers means a lot of empty mentoring centers, which brings me to my last bit of news. Since John and I will be the only girls education volunteers working at the same center, John has decided to move 120km south to Selibabi in order to take over their center. So, as far as I know, I'll be living and working in M'Bout next year without my "sitemate". John won't be far, but I'm going to miss him. There's a chance that a new volunteer would be assigned to my site, but I don't know when that will be.
(Sigh...) All in all, things aren't bad, just different than I thought they'd be. Now more than ever, I'm looking forward to my trip home in August to tahings over with my family and friends and come back refreshed and ready for my second year.
On a more positive note, we had a great Fourth of July gathering in Kaedi. Cooked and grilled some delicious food, hosted a talent/non-talent show (I did a circus / gymnastics-type act with two other girls), and dance to the song "Sandstorm" in a real sandstorm! I've been hanging out in Kaedi since then, but I'll head back to site in the next few days in order to spend time with my host family before my trip home. Don't be suprised if my hands and feet are henna-ed when I get back home -- my host family's been threatening me for quite some time now...

Photo #24

This is a photo of the seasonal river that we had to cross recently in order to leave M'Bout for the girls conference.  The day before, the rain had swelled this river dramatically forcing us to postpone our trip to Nouakchott until the next morning.  You can see John wading across on his way back to help the truck.

Photo #23

Me, Coleen, Teresa, and Julie Ann took this photo in Mali while we were hiking. We're looking out onto the dunes from the top of the escarpment.

Photo #22

I took this photo from a rooftop terrace where we stopped for lunch one day while hiking in Mali. The blue barrel in the foreground is a smart, little shower that they set up: the owners put well water in the barrel and then you turn the spigot on when you want to bathe.

Photo #21

This photo was taken in Dogon Country, Mali, where I spent six days hiking last month. I think we were hiking DOWN when I took this (thank goodness!), but I'm still pretty sweaty. Villages in Dogon lie below, above, and on this cliff, which is what we were hiking along. We all thought it was SO green, although it was still well into their dry season.

School's out for summer!

Bonjour tout le monde!
You all should be very proud since it's been less than a month since my last post. I'm starting to get the feeling that time passes differently for me now then it does for you all in the States. For example, I told my family that I would post the mock Peace Corps ad that Becca and I made on YouTube soon, and when I told them soon meant 3 weeks, they sounded really suprised. Three weeks doesn't seem long to me any more. Guess that's what happens when you've been living in Africa for a year!
Shortly after my last posting, we had our closing ceremony at the mentoring center in M'Bout, and then I went to Kaedi (where I made the awesome video!) and Nouakchott for some Peace Corps business. I left Nouakchott at the end of May and headed down south to St. Louis, Senegal for the International Jazz Festival there. We were allowed to audit our vacation days as long as we worked one three-hour shift selling Mauritanian artisan crafts at a booth at the festival. I spent about three days on the beach, worked for a total of six hours, ate, drank, and was merry. I took some photos of the stuff that we were selling so that you all can put in orders next year; it's pretty hard to find cool souvenir-type stuff in Mauritania, but the festival brings together stuff from around the country and there's a lot of neat stuff from all over West Africa.
On Monday, I travelled down to Dakar with Colleen where we met up with Matt and his brother. Together, the four of us spent one full day in Dakar picking up visas at the Malian embassy, buying bus tickets, jumping on a really cool trampoline by the water, and hanging out by the pool at the American Club. The American Club was kind of a whim: it's where the softball tournament is held every year, they have a pool, tennis courts, snack bar, and bar, and we had heard rumors that Americans can use it for free (true!).
Yesterday, we loaded onto a bus for a 26-hour ride from Dakar to Bamako. The bus left around 5AM Wednesday morning and we got in around 7AM this morning to Bamako. Now, I thought I was a well-seasoned bus traveller, but this was probably more uncomfortable than any bus I took in South America. Regular coach bus, but the air-conditioning didn't work. And no bathroom. And a three-hour long border crossing. I'll let you imagine the rest.
But, we're here in Bamako now and really excited to explore the city! Everything is so green! And there's hills! I've heard it referred to as Dakar with a more small-town feel. I'm bummed that we don't have much time to spend here because we're probably going to leave for Mopti (NE of the city by about 7-10 hours -- another bus ride) tomorrow. Tough decision, but we're in a bit of a time crunch due to the PCV soccer game next weekend, and we want to spend as much time hiking in Dogon country before then. I'm going to take lots and lots of pictures in Dogon, and hopefully post them sometime before I return to the States in August. (I know, I know, it's a long time for you guys, but I've got a busy summer schedule, ma sha'allah.)
I think that's about it for now. We're about to go hunt down the only TexMex restaurant in Bamako. Funny story though: We had heard about a Mexican restaurant in Dakar (There's only one in Nouakchott, so I don't get that kind of food very often.], and after a bit of wandering, we found it down a dark street. Not a whole lot to look at in the front, so we went inside. I was expecting some cheap kind of TexMex like you would find in the States. Nothing too fancy, since we all just had teeshirts and jeans on and hadn't showered since before our taxi ride from St. Louis. Walked into a swanky ex-pat restaurant where everyone's head turned to look at us come in and the hostess asked if we had a reservation. Reservation?! I've been eating with my hands for the past six months! All four of us had our minds so set on nachos and margaritas that we decided to look at the menu anyways -- phew! Pricey, but really good cheese quesadilla and mojito. And little scented towlettes to wash your hands. We laughed for so long at the table that I'm suprised they didn't throw us out. Hoping for a better experience this afternoon...
Keep in touch, everyone. Two months 'till I'm State-side!

Top Best King Hip Hop Boys

I knew that I needed to write a blog post today when I saw this phrase on one of my host brother’s friend’s tee shirts. In English. Huh? There’s so many weird things like this on people’s clothing. I think that a lot of these Western-looking clothes come here from China because I’m certain that a native English-speaker wouldn’t have the creativity to make some of this stuff up. I’ve even heard of Peace Corps volunteers who were walking around, saw a really weird saying on a tee shirt, and traded shirts with the person on the spot! I’m assuming this is a lot easier for male volunteers…

Speaking of clothing, I recently purchased my second “mulafa,” or full-length veil worn my Moor women here. A lot of female volunteers in the northern part of the country wear mulafas every day, but I’m not a huge fan and people tend to be less conservative in the South where I live (if you call ankle-length skirts and tee shirts less conservative), so I haven’t had much experience with them. I decided to buy one to wear on three-hour off road rides from M’Bout to the regional capital. It helps keep the dust, sun, and hot air off of your skin.

Anyway, when I got back from Kaedi – wearing my new mulafa – my host family informed me that the pattern I had picked was called the “Barack Obama.” I have no idea why: it’s blue with navy tie-died stripes. No Barack Obama faces or stars and stripes. Huh?

But now, my host family has started referring to it, not as your Barack Obama mulafa, but instead simply as “the Obama.” It’s weird in context: “Aren’t you going to wash Obama?” “You should gum (starch) Obama.” “You decided to wear Obama!” Even this morning, they pointed out a girl on her way to school who was wearing “Obama.” I always chuckle to myself.

In other news, John and I are wrapping up our last week of GMC activities. We had the girls finish off their computer lessons by writing thank you letters to the teachers and mentors who volunteered at the center this year and on Tuesday, we’re going to have an end-of-the-year party/lesson with snacks and a lesson on the history of American music. After that, I’m off for about a month of vacation in Nouakchott, St. Louis, and Mali. I’ve been slacking off with my picture-taking, but I’m hoping to do and see a lot of the touristy things on vacation, so hopefully, I have some good ones to post when I get back.

All the volunteers here are also anxiously awaiting the arrival of the new trainees next month. I now understand why everyone was so excited when we arrived here last year! It’s hard to explain why we want so desperately to meet a group of 60 total strangers, but it’s like you know that your experience will be so similar and it’s fun to watch it through someone else’s eyes.

Hot season is here in full force now, and the humidity has returned. We get sand storms now like you get rain storms in the States. The other night, we had sandy wind for about 6 hours, which is terrible when you normally sleep outside. I’m dreaming of cold season…and of my trip home in August…

Happy Easter!

Salut tout le monde!
I can't believe it's been almost a month since I last updated my blog; time seems to be passing quicker, but my countdown to summer vacation still seems to creep along. I've been in M'Bout for about three weeks now, since my last trip to Boghe/Kaedi, and we've had the center open for classes five afternoons a week. We teach the girls about three times a week, and then adult /mentor classes the other two days. It's been awhile since I've worked a five-day work week like that, and it is tiring! By the time our day off rolls around, I'm ready to sleep in and chill out at John's house for the better part of the day. Saturdays are definately the most tiring with four hours of girls' computer lessons in the morning, and then an hour or two of adult English club in the afternoon. It seems like my life changed so quickly once we got the center activities up and running; we went from wandering around town for a few hours each day talking to people about a center that we didn't even have yet, to being at the center five afternoons a week and having a real "office" space to work and a group of girls to teach.
The hot season has arrived and is beginning to affect everyone's daily activities: at my host family's house, we've started doing everything about 30 minutes earlier in the morning, more naps in the afternoon during the hottest part of the day, and then not really going out again until about 5 in the evening. I know that my dad is going to say, "Oh yeah, sounds really rough. Taking a nap every afternoon," but I can't say that it's a very good sleep when you wake up soaked with sweat on whatever area you had touching the mat. (I prefer side-sleeping now because it leaves the least surface area touching the mattress.) Everyone's starting to look forward to the rainy season: it's more humid, but things cool down significantly after the rain passes, there's grass everywhere, and the rivers, lakes, and wells fill back up.
I still really enjoy spending time with my host family. Now that my Hassaniya is better, I can understand more of the conversations going on around me and initiate conversation as well. One night, I was sitting outside my family's boutique with my host sister Halima and wondering if she knew the same star constellations that I do: Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Orion, etc. I asked her in Hassaniya, "Do you see those stars?"
"Yes," she responded.
"Do you see the spoon (Big Dipper) that the stars make?"
"Huh?"
"You see those stars," I pointed, "One, two, three..."
"No, no, no. Stop!" she urged. "That's not a good idea."
"To count the stars?"
"It's not good. You have your stars and I have mine." I didn't have the language skills to ask her exactly why we shouldn't count the stars, but I like this idea. "You have your stars and I have mine": Like the stars were given to each individual to decide exactly how they want to interpret them. How they want to see them. And yet we know that they're exactly the same no matter where you are in the world.

Back to work

Thanks to everyone for the congratulatory words and emails in regards to our GMC (girls' mentoring center) opening.  I was just telling John that I think we both need to take a step back sometime in order to see the full extent of our work here; opening the GMC didn't feel like a big deal (probably because we were both stressed out about it and because it didn't go exactly how he or I envisioned it), but it is the culmination of 6 months' work here.

After we opened the center and had our first adult English class, we both left for a few days in Selibaby and a double birthday party.  I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but all volunteers talk about "hitting their limit" at sight.  I usually know that I'm about there when I start having urges to throw rocks at kids, hit creepy men in the face, or laugh at pretty much everything.  Then I know it's time for some American time in a regional capital.  It's refreshing to hang out with other Americans, cook for ourselves, and waste entire days watching movies in front of a fan.

On Sunday, John and I travelled back to M'Bout, and yesterday, we had our first GMC meeting for the girls.  We've split the girls into 2 groups:  first- and second-year middle schoolers and third- and fourth-year middle schoolers.  This works a lot better since our space is small, and we're planning on just teaching the same thing two afternoons in a row, which isn't really that much more work for us.  Yesterday, we went over the center rules and had the girls decorate index cards with their names, school years, and birth dates.  I'm hoping to do a lot more art activities with them because art is not taught in the schools here, and most of them have had very few opportunities to do something creative.  We'll begin our computer lessons on Saturday, which I think the girls are really looking forward to as well.

I think that's about it for now.  I know that a lot of you in the States are still very much in winter mode, but the hot season is coming upon us fast here.  Midday is scorching (I think it was 105 the other day), but it's still cooling down at night.  I'm dreading the time when I wake up sweating in the morning.  Think about that when you're shoveling snow!

And the GMC is open!

First of all, I think this is my first blog post from M'Bout!  About a month ago, John and I got the internet set up, and it's running pretty well now.  The service was donated to the girls mentoring center (GMC) by the provider, and we receive a set amount of credit each month automatically.  It's really pretty cool.

And now for the big news...(dun, dun, dun)...we have officially opened our GMC!  After six months of hounding the mayor for a space, a funding proposal for materials, an essay contest to choose the girls, and an afternoon of putting everything together, we had an opening ceremony / open house last Sunday, March 8, which happened to be International Women's Day.  We invited all 40+ middle-school girls, their parents, the mayor, school directors, teachers, and local NGO workers to come see the center, drink tea and zrig (a milk drink), and ask us questions about upcoming events.  It was hectic and crazy -- the 50 gallons of water that we bought that morning were all contaminated with gasoline, so John and I ran around town looking for some more water for about an hour -- but I think, everything considered, it went pretty well.  We probably had about 50 or 60 people come, but we had planned for 150, so we were both a little disappointed about that.  Not all of the girls came because there was a soccer game that same evening at the school, and even though we invited all of the girls' parents to come, we only got one dad.  I thought that parents would want to know where their girls were going after school, which is why we invited them, but most adults tend to stay home here and I realized afterward that I've never seen an inter-generational party here.  We have them in the States all the time -- family get-togethers with parents, grandparents, and kids -- but I think that this is a strange concept for Mauritanians.  Plus, the one father who came (a retired teacher) told me that most parents just aren't that invested in their daughter's education.  Sad, and probably true.  Still, it feels good to have things up and running and to have some structure to my time now, with lessons about 5 afternoons a week.

Speaking of lessons, John and I taught our first adult English course last night.  It went fairly well, but also made me realize that speaking a language and teaching a language are two completely different things.  Most of the students are just excited about the chance to speak English with a native speaker, so that's encouraging.  I'm going to try and get some ideas from other volunteers when I go to Selibaby this weekend.

Take care, and I'll write again soon!

W.A.I.S.T.

I'm not quite sure how to describe the whirlwind week that I just spent in Dakar, but I'm going to start writing and hopefully create some sort of coherent posting. When I left Kaedi last week (with 13 of my region mates), we boarded a pickup truck for the seven-hour drive to Rosso on mostly paved roads. The next day, we all had a quick safety and security meeting and some softball practice before leaving early the next morning on a chartered bus to Dakar [aaah, Dakar...our promised land]. We arrived at the American Club in Dakar that evening where I found out that I would be staying the weekend with a American woman who works at the embassy and her son. Another volunteer and I went to their house where they served us a delicious homemade paella, let us take a hot shower and sleep in a real bed!
The next three days I spent on the softball fields at the American Club. I played four games for the Mauritanian Scallywags (we lost three and won one on a technicality), ate hotdogs and cheeseburgers, and drank enough beer to satisfy me for a long, long time. I met a lot of other ex-pats from Dakar as well as volunteers from Senegal, Gambia, Mali, and Guinea. I'm not sure if I can fully describe how amazing the weekend was: it was like going back to America without ever leaving the continent of Africa. The Mauritanian volunteers have a reputation for being the wildest bunch, and I think we lived up to that. Not only did our "A" team with the social division, but we did it with style -- dressed in pirate costumes, dancing on the sidelines, and having the largest cheering section of any group there. I can see why the second-year volunteers have been talking about this softball tournament since we arrived in June!
After the tournament finals on Monday, I took my time getting back spending a day at the grocery store (we spent two hours there!) and beach and another day exploring the markets of Dakar (the main market was just as overwhelming as it was the first time I took my family there in December). On Thursday, we spent 15 hours travelling from Dakar to Kaedi, which is in fact really good time!
Tomorrow, I'm planning on riding back to my site with the Peace Corps shuttle which is coming through for site assessments.
So that just leaves my monthly anecdote:
Tradition is that a lot of Mauritanian volunteers (girls and boys) shave their heads into mohawks for WAIST (the softball tournament). Since I didn't want to shave my head, I had one of my friends braid my hair into a mohawk:
It looked so sweet! And because it was really comfortable, I tended to forget about it. Like when I was having dinner with my homestay family in Dakar and discussing the cultural differences between Americans and West Africans and the impact that this has on development work, etc. And then the next day, I donned this outfit for the softball game:
If you have ever tried to catch a fly ball while wearing an eye patch and striped onesie, you'll believe me when I say that it's not easy...
Aaah, WAIST...

Photo #20

This is a photo of John holding my youngest host brother Abderrahmane. John's wearing his holiday boubou and traditional sirwal pants (although you can't see in the picture). Abderrahmane has a diaper on for the occasion! (Diapers are really expensive -- about $1 for a diaper-shaped plastic sheet that you tie on.) Usually, he's bare-bummed, so holding him can be interesting...

Photo #19

This photo was also taken on the first day of Tabaski. Traditionally, every family kills a ram, gives 1/3 to friends, 1/3 to the poor, and feasts on the last 1/3. John and I ate so much meat that day! My host family (from left to right: my host dad Ali in the blue boubou, my host mom Makhalat is behind him, my host sister Nangy has the pink blanket on her head, my host sister Zeinabou is wearing the yellow mulefa, me, and my host brother Hussein) and I are eating a tajine, or meat and sauce which is served with bread. This is how we usually eat: on the floor, around a communal bowl, and with our right hands. I'm wearing a new outfit that I had made for the holiday -- my host family flipped out when I walked out of my room that morning!

Photo #18

This is my two-year-old host brother Hussein. He's just starting to talk in a comprehensible way and is pretty much adorable. I took this photo on the first day of Tabaski, which is the biggest Muslim holiday of the year. He's showing off his new clothes that my host dad brought back from Nouakchott for all the kids. And that's John's foot in the corner.

Helping the children?!!

December, January, and February are exciting months for us Mauritanian volunteers, and all of the socializing left me with little computer time. There's a distinct contrast between the long, monotonous days at site and the busy days that I spend in Kaedi or Nouakchott or Senegal. It wasn't until these past few weeks at site that I actually began to appreciate my time in M'Bout and the home that I'm making for myself there. I took some photos of my host family, and I'll try to post those soon.
I've been thinking about this post for the past week and about what I could write that would help all of my friends and family get a better grasp on my life here. Recently, I've realized that I fear Mauritanian children. Imagine that you're walking down the street alone, minding your own business, and when you turn the corner, you see a group of ten-year-olds up ahead. You look for another street, but they're between you and your destination. You HAVE to pass by them. Seven months ago, I would have thought, "Ah, cute," but living in Mauritania has changed that. Now, my heart rate picks up, my palms start to sweat, and I start humming to myself (a nervous habit), all the while getting closer and closer to the children. Groups of children are frightening: they're unpredictable, they outnumber you, and they have the freedom to act outside of social constraints. Every child in M'Bout knows my name and shouts it out (usually after I pass them), sometimes they ask me for money, and sometimes they scream "nassraniya" (white girl) and dance (not kidding). And then just when you think you can write off all Mauritanians between the age of 7 and 17, a nice, cute kid will walk up and politely greet you. Sometimes I think that anyone who wants to help the children of Africa just hasn't spent enough time here.
John and I continue to work to get the mentoring center up and running. The last time we were in Kaedi, we purchased all of the classroom supplies and rented a pickup truck to bring them out to M'Bout. Unfortunately, we still haven't secured a space for the center, so the materials are in the corner of the mayor's office collecting dust. Without a space, I'm not certain which direction I want to work. School gets out in May this year because of the presidential elections in June, which makes me wonder if we'll even get things started this year. We can't work any faster than our Mauritanian counterparts, and it wouldn't be sustainable if we could. I always tell my parents, "We're getting things done, just not as fast as I would like."
This week I'm travelling to Rosso for a safety and security conference and then onto Dakar for the annual West African Invitational Softball Tournament (WAIST). All the second-year volunteers have been talking about WAIST since we got here, so I'm really excited!
For all of you back in the States, stay warm!

Photo #17

This is a photo of Nouakchott, which was taken from an airplane.  Compare with the photo below.

Photo #16

And for comparison, Dakar.  See blog entry below.

Photo #15

This is outside our hotel in Saly, Senegal.  The statues were their idea...

"It's like having the flu or joining the Peace Corps..."

Happy 2009!  I'm back in the Kaedi at the moment after quite a bit of traveling during the past three weeks.  It was so nice to be on the road again and exploring the continent after more than 3 months either at site or in the regional capital.  Living here now feels so different from the three and a half months I spent traveling in South America:  I feel so much more tied to these communities because of my work here, whereas before, I was completely free to pick up and move at any moment.  This seems obvious now, but I assumed they would feel the same at the beginning.

Shortly after my last blog post, I travelled from Kaedi to Nouakchott where I spent a few nights IN A HOTEL!  Although the novelty of this wore off by the time I finished my Christmas vacation, I'm not sure anything can compare to the first time I unlocked my hotel door, checked out the hot water heater, mini-fridge, TV, and real bed!  I was able to see the Peace Corps office in Nouakchott for the first time (really nice) and discover the capital before heading south to Rosso.  While I was in Rosso, I ran into another volunteer who was heading to Dakar, so we decided to travel together.  I'm so glad that she was able to help me cross the border, exchange money, and negotiate the taxi rides, especially for my first time.  Plus, it's always nice to have someone to travel with.  Our trek to Dakar should have taken about 5 hours, but it ended up taking between 8 and 9 hours to make it to our hotel -- so goes traveling in the developing world!  

The next morning, I picked up my mom, dad, and sister at the airport in Dakar!  Yay!  We headed straight to our resort in Saly, Senegal where we spent four nights.  Our resort was absolutely gorgeous!  They had an extensive Christmas Eve celebration, and although I know it wasn't a typical Christmas, I'm truly happy that I was able to spend the holiday with my family. 

From Saly, we traveled back to Dakar for three more nights in another really nice hotel (thank you, Mom and Dad!).  We saw Dakar's natural history museum, presidential palace, and central market, as well as the Ile de Goree, an island of the coast which was used extensively for slave trading.  Although the traffic in Dakar is horrendous, it's a pretty city, especially along it's jagged coast.  I prefer it to Nouakchott, which is 1ok from the coast (for some unknown reason) and in the middle of the sand dunes.

My family left on New Year's Eve, and I left Dakar that same day for St. Louis where a lot of volunteers were spending the holiday.  St. Louis is really cute.  The city straddles the main land, an island in the middle of the Senegal river, and a peninsula, which borders the Atlantic.  I was able to see some volunteers from different parts of the country who I hadn't seen since we swore in at the end of August.  We got our fill of St. Louis's restaurants and bars before heading back to Nouakchott for an in-service training.

I spent the last week in Nouakchott for training.  Although I didn't find the sessions very helpful, it was really good to exchange ideas with the other volunteers and plan for the next six months and really fun discovering the city.  Half of the country's population lives in Nouakchott, and there's a lot there to discover (read:  eat).  It's so different from Kaedi and M'Bout.  I feel like Nouakchott could eventually leave the rest of the country in the dust; it's developing faster and just feels like two different worlds.  I'm not sure if this is really surprising, but it was to me.

On Thursday, my region mates and I bought out a taxi and came back to the Gorgol:  home sweet home!  It feels nice to be back, speaking Hassaniya again and knowing my way around town and just generally feeling comfortable because I know what's going on.  As I was walking back along the dirt road from the market with a bag full of produce this morning, I was thinking about how weird it is that this life is normal to me now.  Welcome to 2009.