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!