Recently

With a very short five days of "rest" at home in Thies/ the training center, I was off again and back to Dakar on Tuesday for a Junior Achievement event. But, this wasn't before I had the chance to go see Mme. Ly on Monday afternoon.

I had been dreading going to see Mme. Ly because of the disaster that was Jazz Fest. She and Khady had the most miserable expressions on their faces every time I saw them and I was afraid that all of my hard work with them would be for naught after the giant disappointment of the expo. Fortunately, Mme. Ly doesn't hate me. Just like Katherine's artisan Matar told her, Mme. Ly told me that the event was so horrible that the artisans bonded and that they did really learn a lot from the gallery and how we had set up the Peace Corps display there. Apprently, the boys stayed an extra couple of days in St. Louis and sold some more product which is good. Mme. Ly and Khady left after the final official day of the expo with some very, very, very exciting news. After I had already left St. Louis, Joelle, the gallery owner, came over to the Peace Corps booth to check things out and speak with the artisans. She was impressed with a couple of the products including the Collaboration Bag (made by Matar the tailor and Demba the leather guy) and a lot of Mme. Ly's new jewlery designs.

Mme. Ly and Khady are over the moon that Joelle liked their jewelry and the three women are working on finalizing and order for the gallery and creating a partnership! Exciting!!! Over the past year I've been creating a Look Book for Mme. Ly with all of her designs. Every time she has a new necklace I take a picture and put it in the photo album I bought her. She now has a record of well over 50 designs that she's made. The next time Mme. Ly goes to Dakar she's going to take her Look Book and show it to Joelle so she can choose more designs. Hopefully this will turn out to be an enduring partnership! And it means that at least two good things came out of Jazz Fest: the artisans have really bonded and become friends and Mme. Ly has a new opportunity with a gallery!

Unfortunately, Monday night did not end as well as the afternoon went. My internet is suddenly suffering from the mysterious disease that Katherine's internet had a few months ago. From home, when connected to the internet through my modem and an ethernet cord, I can only access Gmail, NYT.com, and Skype. While these sites do represent the holy grail of internet, but it's really annoying when you can't access the rest of the internet, especially after I had paid my bill earlier that day. Yes, I know, the trials and tribulations of the Peace Corps Volunteer. No internet. Poor me. But, it's all what you get used to and I have work to do! Although I have been obsessively calling Orange (my service provider), re-configuring my modem, and turning everything off and on, there has been no improvement. Blame the terrible utilities companies for the lack of blogging.

Tuesday morning, after yelling at several Orange representatives over the phone, Talla came to pick me up and we headed to Dakar. Since Talla was driving and I didn't have to take a sept-place I took a ton of Peace Corps property into Dakar to turn in... I'm getting closer and closer to coming home! We picked up Jackie and with Kerry already in the car we sped to Dakar... until we got stopped in standstill traffic for over an hour. The real purpose of the trip was Junior Achievement and the end of the year festivities and events planned by the JA country team.

Tuesday night we attended a lovely reception at the American Ambassador's house and Wednesday morning we went to the national theater along with a bunch of JA students (including some from Lycee Technique!) to celebrate their accomplishments and listen to some Senegalese musicians perform. We also got to watch a television segment about JA in which Jackie and I starred or in which Jackie starred and I had one ridiculous line. The best part was we were both wearing the same outfits we had on in the video! Just goes to show you how poorly PCVs dress.

Now I'm back in Thies waiting out the power outages and politicking. Definitely check out Senegal is the news for yesterday and today. I'm an fine and safe, but there are protests happening throughout the country. Yahoo news, Reuters, and AP all have articles if you are interested to know what's happening in Senegal.

Exhaustion

Trainee site placement interviews continued yesterday and I continued to be absolutely fascinated not because I see myself two years ago, but because I see my projects two years from now. The new group of trainees is overall older than my group, has more experience, and already speaks better French. The number of people with retail and marketing backgrounds who want to work with artisans is staggering and they are chomping at the bit to take the Peace Corps Artisan Association to the next level with their expertise, contacts back in the US, and their excitement at what their service holds. It's a little sad that I wont be around to see everything first hand, but don't worry, I'm coming home.

The nostalgia is definitely kicking in. The new stage is so excited to get to know each other, so excited to learn local languages, and so excited to get to work. I can finally see why some people do extend their services for a third year(again, don't worry this is happening, I already have a plane ticket). At this point in my service no matter how incredibly annoyed I am with the country of Senegal and everything it entails, I can still get things done. The artisans, even after the catastrophe that was the St. Louis Jazz Fest, are still excited about the association and call me incessantly to talk about. With my language skills and cultural understanding at the point they are now, I could do great things with a third year just like some of my stage-mates will do with their third year. But, back to the new stage...

PST is going well. Who the hell thought I would ever say that in any context? I was at the center all day again yesterday doing interviews, answering questions, and participating in the cultural fair where I lead the Islam talk for the forth time. Last night since the trainees are still not allowed to leave the center I lead/ created a trivia night for them. While the questions might have been a little titled toward the Alyssa/Katherine weird knowledge/ obsessions side, it was still fun and I hope a success.

Fortunately, I am able to take a little break from the center today and try to become a whole human being again. The past ten days have been crazy. Katherine and I worked our asses off all day in St. Louis and then may or may not have had a little too much fun at night, then 5 days in Dakar for COS Conference, and now PST. In return for all of my hard work, I have earned a very persistent head cold and complete exhaustion. I slept for 10 hours last night, got up, eat breakfast, pretended to do work for an hour, and then took an almost two hour nap. Yeah. I want to spend some time with my family today because I've barely seen them this month and I have very little time left.

I did spend a little time with my family today. Operative word being little since I was so, so, so tired. My main interaction was holding a stick on one side while Ahmed held it on the other in order to prevent him from seeing how many times one can poke a light bulb before it breaks. I had to take several naps both in my room and on the floor of the living room when the power was out and it was too hot to be in my room without a fan. I think tomorrow I will be close to normal and can continue with normal live. Tomorrow is also the Thies walk around so the trainees will be let out of the center for the first time! Hopefully I wont scare them too much!

My Replacement: He/She Is Here

Yesterday at 4:45am Chris (our Country Director) picked up a group of us at the hotel where we were staying for COS Conference and we all went to the airport to pick up the 17 new SED stagaires. Even though I was sick and had to sit through the rest of the conference all day, I wanted to go great the new stagaires to come full circle. I remember how incredibly terrified I was when I landed in Senegal and how much I looked up to the PCVs who came to collect us. I didn't see any of the terror I felt in their eyes, but it was great to get a first look at them.

The stagaires were in Thies all day yesterday, but I left early this morning for Thies with a group of second year SED PCVs to present on our various projects and give a little taste of what we do to the new kids before they had their interviews about site placement. Katherine and I presented on artisans (it seemed like people were super interested!), Elizabeth and Jackie did Junior Achievement, Byron presented on cross sector collaboration (SED and Ag co projects), Chris on Eco-Tourism, and Lyzz (a first year) on waste management. I know that I would have liked a project overview early on in my pre-service training, since I had no idea what kind of work the PCVs did, so I hope they enjoyed the presentations. I also participated in a safety and security discussion about Thies, but the most interesting part of my day was the site placement interviews.

I am lucky enough to sit in on the site placement interviews and help decide which trainee goes to which site. It's absolutely fascinating. I remember my interview and how it's so hard to talk about what you want when you don't know a damn thing. I feel like the PCV who sat in on my interview really was able to look at the sites, understand who fits into what site, and then evaluate my personality in order to put me in Thies. The fact that I wasn't quiet about my desire for internet/ connection to the outside world probably didn't hurt either. Regardless, I hope that I can help place people at a site where they will be successful and at a site that they love. Listening to the new trainees struggle to find the right words because they're jet lagged, try to describe their perfect site without knowing anything about the sites, and attempt to process all of the information being thrown at them is bringing back a deluge of memories.

All of their questions are interesting and I already feel invested in them since they are a SED stage, but most especially because one of them will be living with my family, taking on my projects, and quasi living the life I've lead for two years. The goal of these interviews in the next two days is to figure out which languages people are going to learn. Since the group is so small (only 17), there will be 5 French, 2 Serere, and 10 Wolof. Therefore, winnowing down the two who will speak Serere is a pretty big deal as they will be placed in one of two sites. There's a lot more variables in play for the people learning French and Wolof, but I definitely have my eye on a potential replacement for myself and for Katherine.

The past 8 days have been insanity with Jazz Fest, COS Conference, and the new stage arriving and it's not going to calm down anytime soon. For the rest of the week I will be spending all day at the center with the new stage and I have to go back to Dakar next for a Junior Achievement Senegal conference.

Artisan Update: I just got off the phone with Katherine who spoke to her tailor, Matar. I have yet to really speak with or visit Mme. Ly. According to Matar, some artisans stayed until Tuesday even though the event officially ended on Sunday and that they actually sold quite a bit of product and that the artisans are generally happy. Apparently, after we left, everyone started singing kumbaya and being best friends forever. Alys' leather worked, Demba, is now a father figure to Matar while Mme. Ly is his mother. They all bonded over the horrible situation and believe St. Louis made the association stronger, which they are now obsessed with. I desperately hope all of this is true because I've been feeling terrible about how poorly Jazz Fest went and how miserable the artisans appeared while we were there. I can't wait to get a chance to go over and see Mme. Ly. I hope she's as positive as Matar!

COS Conference

Fall 2009 Stage at COS COnference

For the past three days my entire stage has been in Dakar for our COS (Close Of Service) Conference. This is a point in my service that I never, ever thought I would attend. I didn't think I would make it through PST and then I thought I would be going to grad school in 2011 and wouldn't make it to the conference, but, as I've learned in Peace Corps, you never actually know what's going to happen and I made it to COS Conference.

The real purpose of COS Conference is to bring the next stage to leave together in order to give us mounds of paperwork and instructions for ending our Peace Corps service and returning to the United States. What COS Conference really is is an opportunity to get everyone in your stage together one last time and stay in an air conditioned hotel in Dakar for four days. Unfortunately, that AC gave me a terrible head cold, which I'm still struggling with. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were filled with vast amounts of paperwork to be filled out in the future, job prep information, and how to continue our service in the US by speaking with schools, participating in recruiting events, etc. The conference wasn't super informative since I had already ravenously read our COS manual, which I received a few weeks ago and outlines most procedures, but the conference was the last time I'll probably be able to slow down and think and process.

With volunteers spread across Senegal, there are only a couple of times each year we all get together and other than trainings there's no time when you are along with your stage, the people who crossed the Atlantic with you and suffered through the same PST. It's really fun to see everyone and hear about how life is so different in a village than in Thies, but that we share many of the same frustrations and our perspectives on Senegal aren't all too different. I love hearing everyone's personal anecdotes about site from accidentally adding too much bleach into her drinking water, to 3 day long bus rides to Mali, to me getting peed on by a goat while sitting in a car, to making bagels over a gas tank or being asked to participate in a traditional wedding, everyone has a great story.

During the day we sat in a conference room learning and sharing and at night we sat around the hotel pool or in our air conditioned rooms reliving our favorite memories, making news ones, and discussing our plans for post Peace Corps life. That next stage will start at different times for different people in my stage. Myself and most of the SED volunteers will start leaving mid next month (because our replacements have arrived in Senegal 2 months early), while our agriculture stage-mates will be leaving anytime from July to November. There are also the brave PCVs will be extending a service for 3 months or 6 months or even a year. COS conference is supposed to bring us together and make us think and it definitely accomplished that for me. I am so unbelievably excited to come home and as I'm wrapping up my Peace Corps experience I'm proud of what I've accomplished and believe that my service has come to a logical conclusion, but at the same time it's really, really, really sad.

Wednesday night (the concluding night of the conference), Chris, the country director, invited us to his house for some food as a thank you for our service and as a last meal as a group. Jackie made a freaking amazing slide slow with pictures from the past two years. I'm not close with everyone in my stage, but there's the person I sat next to on the plane from DC to Senegal, or the people from my PST training village, or the person I spent a weekend with at a regional house. Most of all, these are the only people who will ever really understand my two year Peace Corps experience in Senegal. They know how crazy it was, how much I hated PST, and the fabulous adventure it was.

Not to be super sentimental/ nostalgic/ sappy... I will move on. COS Conference also represented the last few days I will have to think about my service, or, at least, start thinking about my service. Wednesday morning I was part of a crew of 2 year SED PCVs who got up at 4:45 to great the new SED stage at the airport. One of these people will be my replacement! Crazy!

St. Louis Jazz Fest

Katherine and I arrived in St. Louis Wednesday afternoon after the one of the worst sept-place rides of all time. I literally sat on my right hip the entire time because the back seat was so small, a the giant woman sitting next to us decided to needed to jiggle her baby most of the ride, and the 2.5 hour trip actually took a little over 4. The only thought that sustained us during our sept-place ride was: Rice Krispie Treats. Katherine’s mom sent us some last minute food supplies and we brought a lot of it to St. Louis, most importantly the Rice Krispies. There was obviously no gas at the Peace Corps house in St. Louis so we foraged for sticks. On the side of the road. In a major city. Once we collected what we thought was a sufficient amount of stick on which to cook Rice Krispie treats the magic happened. Fortunately, butter and marshmallows don’t take too much heat to melt and before we knew it we were indulging in the gooy delight that is Rice Krispie treats. Making ourselves sick for what would be the first out of two times on Rice Krispie treats we hid the remnants in a plastic bag and then put it in our luggage to enjoy later/ hide from other PCVs because we’re fatties.

In a sugar coma, we walk across the bridge to the island to meet Amanda and see the gallery for the first time. We also walked through the artisanal stand section to find our booth and prepare to help the artisans find the booth and set up Thursday morning. The gallery, like the one in Dakar, was beautiful although they received a giant shipment of goods while we were there and actually didn’t get everything set up and open for business until Friday, which was a day after the actual festival started. Everything seemed like it was under control and Katherine and I left the island feeling like the artisans could pretty much fend for themselves and our roles would be minimal. We made a delicious Mexican fiesta over some more sticks, ate some more Rice Krispie treats, created a PST presentation, and went to bed thinking that the apocalypse probably wouldn’t happen the next day. We were wrong.

The gallery was supposed to open at 9am so that’s when Katherine and arrived to find the first floor of the gallery overrun with product to the point where we could barely find a path to walk. The first day at the gallery was a bust because it never opened, but it did provide us with a reprieve of the absolute hell taking place outside. I went to the stand to search for artisans and ran into Ndeye, a boutique owner from Kaolack, on my way there. She couldn’t find the booth. Ndeye was the first artisan to show up followed by the women from Kebemer who make bags and then Mme. Ly. It was obvious at this point that we were in trouble. The artisans were not happy about the space or the congestion in the “artisan” area. We had warned them about the space. At the last artisan meeting we actually mapped out on the floor the dimensions of the booth and reiterated to everyone that they could not bring their usual amount of goods/ baggage. This needed to be an event where we worked together to make the most of our space. This obviously didn’t happen.

The three women started setting up and pretty much filled the entire space and four artisans had still not yet arrived. I had had several discussions with Mme. Ly about only bringing her best goods and only bringing a couple necklaces, bracelets, and earrings in each style. This obviously fell on deaf ears as she brought her normal/ ridiculous quantity of goods. I was really annoyed she completely disregarded my recommendations and then that she refused to reduce the amount of goods she had on display so other artisans had more room. The day really only got worse from this point.

Katherine and I had to move our bags from the Peace Corps office to the house our stage rented for the weekend so we did this and had lunch, leaving the three artisans who had actually arrived at this point at about 12:30. We returned at 2pm to hell. The male artisans had finally arrived and the amount of bags they brought with them had brought all of the artisans to a complete standstill. It was like they were paralyzed. No one was continuing to set up. Everyone was just sitting there, complaining about the lack of space, and staring at the unpacked goods. While we were hoping to have a minimal role, Katherine and I jumped in and started unpacking; there was nothing else to do. We moved as much as we had been OK’ed to move into the gallery to create more space and we attempted to have the artisans work together in creating displays.

The Peace Corps Artisan Association is supposed to be a practice in collaboration. There are already several products where artisans work together and several have become good friends, but when it comes to money and showcasing goods all bets are off. Each artisan wanted his or her own space. No one wanted to or accepted the idea of displaying a piece of jewelry in a bowl or on a basket. There was just an explosion of goods and it looked terrible. Fortunately Amanda came over to play bad guy and arrange goods for them. The artisans are terrified that the one product they put away is the one thing that will sell even if they already have the same product displayed elsewhere. Amanda helped us work with the artisans for several hours to create a space that looked semi-decent, but which was still overflowing with products.

The artisans and especially Mme. Ly did not like what we did. At this point it’s 6pm and we’ve been working on arranging things since the early morning. Most of the artisans traveled to St. Louis that day. Everyone is exhausted, it’s incredibly hot, and the conditions are just terrible. The artisan exposition is more like a bazaar. The vast majority of booths were filled with random crap from the market, goods made in China, and cheap knock off goods. There were 100 booths and maybe 20 had actual artisanal clients. The majority of the clients were Senegalese school girls and there was a constant crush of humanity milling along the road at all times. Loud music was blasted and the organizational effort put in by the mayor’s office was nonexistent. I went to a boutique to buy drinks and donuts to make everyone feel better, but most of the artisans didn’t even want it. That’s how angry and exhausted everyone was. With nothing left to do and the artisans definitely not wanting to talk to us, Katherine, Alys, and I left around 6:30 for a much needed and deserved beverage.

Friday morning wasn’t all that much better. The gallery finally opened and served as our oasis from the chaos outside, but since the chaos outside stretched to the front of the gallery we barely had any customers. What we were able to do was bring the artisans inside the gallery so Amanda could talk to them about product display. Unfortunately when she asked them what the biggest difference between the booth and gallery was they said space instead of set-up, but they did she how nice and clean and minimal everything looked. Space was definitely tight at the booth, but if they had worked together to display everything they would have been much better off. The men really seemed to get this lesson and take the entire debacle as a learning experience. I’m not so sure about the women. Next week I will talk to Mme. Ly and have a short de-brief to learn what she really thought. Hopefully she’ll have cooled off by then.

Friday night was the big Peace Corps party night. Richard, the volunteer in my stage in St. Louis, had his favorite hangout hold a Peace Corps Appreciation Night and he was the DJ at the event. The party was really fun…too fun and I paid the price yesterday. We had planned on leaving yesterday morning to come to Dakar, but that turned into yesterday afternoon as Katherine and I had to spend most of the morning in bed and finding my phone. For some reason I gave Katherine my phone who put it in the safest place to put some of value: her bra. When we woke up yesterday morning the phone was gone. We went back to the hotel where some PCVs were staying and looked around. Nothing. We asked the staff at the hotel. Nothing. My phone was ringing and no o ne was picking it up so we thought there was a pretty good chance that it was laying somewhere for us to find. On the walk back from the hotel Katherine decided we should check the beach as she had gone out there with Emily and tripped several times. With Katherine calling my phone and me following behind scanning the beach, I saw Katherine’s entire body shake in excitement and then bend down and pick up my phone. The phone was still on the beach at 12pm. That’s a Peace Corps miracle right there!

Phone in hand, we headed back to get our bags and then to the gallery to meet Alys. A delicious greasy hamburger later, I felt like I could survive a 5 hour car ride to Dakar and we were off. A fairly easy car ride later we met Tamar at the regional house, took showers, and made delicious pizza. I’m extremely happy the expo in St. Louis is over. The planning and the event itself was extremely stressful, but it also marked my last project of my service. I’m definitely disappointed it wasn’t a big success, but I hope the artisans learned something and that future expos will be better. The event didn’t destroy the association, but seemed to make it stronger which is good. I’m now relaxing and recovering in Dakar at the regional house before moving to a hotel this afternoon to start my COS conference! Let the craziness continue…

Pictures will be up eventually.

Running

Things having to with running have occupied my mind recently. After spending the weekend with Tamar on Mar Lodj and basking in the glory that is her shower, I've decided that I would most likely resort to physical violence to have running water. I'm at my wits end with the water situation. It used to be one of those grin and bear it scenarios, but now it just sends me over the edge. The electricity has been terrible lately which means there's absolutely no hope for water and Jeenaba was gone all weekend which meant that no one pulled water since our new maid doesn't work on the weekends, Mami and Khady are the antithesis of most Senegalese women, and Awa is approximately 74 months pregnant. Water on demand sounds like heaven. A dream. Utopia. I don't even care if it's hot. I just want it to come out of a spigot. I'm not even asking for a shower head.

I've also been running a lot in order to not look like I've spent the past two years living in Africa when I return to the motherland. Unfortunately, this gives me a lot of time to think about running out of time. Don't get me wrong, it feels like I have an eternity left here in Senegal even though I'm staring down the last six weeks of my service. Time is dragging. Everything is touching my last nerve. People are being so mean to me on the streets that I'm practically beside myself. Fortunately, my family is back in my good graces so they are the only thing that stands between me and insanity. Junior Achievement is over (more or less) and artisan stuff will be as soon as the Jazz Fest is over this weekend, but the social engagements (I know, I have a hard life), PST, and planning for life back at home takes a lot of time. Thinking about coming home isn't what I would call overwhelming, but it does take a lot of thought and I want to hit the ground running which takes a surprising amount of preparation. The time seems short in an intellectual sense, but like I've been banished to purgatory in every day life.

The return home has me reaching back out to friends for everything from job search questions to grad school inquiries to party planning. I forgot how freaking awesome friends in America are. In my opinion, one of the biggest differences between Senegalese and American culture is the acquisition and dispersal of knowledge. Knowledge is power after all, but knowledge is treated in totally different ways. Here in Senegal practically anyone would take you into their home and give you a meal and a bed, but ask them a question about future events or even facts about Senegal and they wont say a peep. Senegalese people keep their knowledge close to the vest. They don't want to share and help everyone else out in that regard. At home it's the opposite. I've been nervous about asking my friends for information, to read their essays, to ask for help because that's anathema here. I've been wording apologetic emails of solicitation only to receive page long emails with 3 attachments in return. Information spewing forth with ideas, recommendations, examples, and anything I could ever wish for. Seriously, America, you rock. As do all of my wonderful friends back at home. Thank you.

While thinking about all of these things/ how I would bore you by blogging about them, I ran around town. First I went to Les Delices to ensure I had power to Skype with my Aunt Diane's class for the last time. As usual they brought a smile to my face as did the plate of hummus I ordered! From there it was on to Mme. Ly's to confirm logistics about St. Louis and pick up necklaces to show at the gallery. She seems on board with the plan to only bring jewelry and only the pieces we've discussed. I have very little faith this will actually happen, but we'll see! I also ran to the post office.

SHOUT OUTS!!!

Shirley - the letters keep rolling in and are as amazing and uplifting as ever. Thank you.

Ma - Thank you for the amazing package. The treats and magazines are much appreciated. I can't wait to go shopping for all of the things I see in magazines when I get back to the States. Chicago better prepare itself!

Mom and Dad - Thank you for another fantastic package. If Awa ever has her baby she will be thrilled with the outfit. Ahmed already loves his eye spy book. He doesn't quite have the concept down, but he likes it. And I love all of the salty snacks and life giving magazines!

I appreciate every letter and package that's been sent, but it's about time to stop all of the love coming to Senegal. Packages should be sent no later than the end of the week and letters shouldn't be sent after the third week of the month. I want to make sure that I get everything. THANK YOU!

Mar Lodj

The past couple of months have been packed with trips and checklists and countdowns. The push to fit in everything I haven't done, everything I've wanted to do, and everyone I want to visit is in full swing. One thing left on the list was a "friend" trip to Mar Lodj. I've actually been to Mar Lodj twice before with my mom and then with CJ, but never for a girls weekend on the island. Jackie and Katherine still had Mar Lodj and visiting Tamar on their checklists and we all know it's fairly impossible for us to be separated!

Thursday morning Katherine had trouble getting a car, but then absolutely flew to Thies and caught Jackie and I a little offguard so, I happened to be the last person to arrive at the garage. We were people 5,6, and 7 in the sept-place and after I had my inevitable confrontation with the men taking the money for the car we were off to Joal. On Wednesday I had picked up some food supplies in Thies and Jackie grabbed some veggies in Pout, but in Joal (where we had to change cars) we were on the lookout for some more veggies and shrimp. After being told that we could walk to the market, which we later found out was 5k away, we bought some eggplant but failed in our acquisition of shrimp. A tour of Joal hotel then ensued as we looked for lunch to no avail. Arriving at the second garage where we could find a car to Ndangan (the town on the mainland where you get a boat to Mar Lodj) a man told us that he had a restaurant where we could get a lunch serve with a base of bread. For some reason unknown to the three of us we actually followed him. We are so happy we did.

The restaurant was absolutely spotless, featured actual glassware, and overlooked a fishery. It was a weird place for sure, but when they served us a 1/4 chicken, salad, fries, and bread for 1500 CFA we were pretty happy. It was delicious and a great start to our trip. The good luck continued at the garage where people tried to force us to be the first people into a 14 person mini-bus. A taxi driver approached the three, girl toubabs to try and sell us on purchasing a cab, obviously. The ridiculous part was that the taxi was the same price as a pass for the completely void bus. Excellent. We took a fairly comfortable cab all the way to Ndangan where we dropped Tamar's local name and were welcomed with open arms and told which boat to take.

In Mar Lodj we were greeted by Tamar, her friend Laura who is visiting from the States, and Byron who took a boat trip with the girls across the delta earlier that day. The group of us took a tour around the village of Mar Lodj and greeted Tamar's host family. The cultural exchange and use of local languages (unfortunately Tamar's site is predominately Sereer and I speak Wolof) we had a drink at a hole in the wall bar and then headed home to make a delicious pasta dinner full of nutritious vegetables. Katherine and I then cuddled in her bug hut on Tamar's porch under the huge night sky.

Byron left early on day 2 of our trip to Mar Lodj after a great Tapalapa breakfast. Tapalapa aka village bread is a dense and delicious bread that only poor people eat. City folks eat terrible, processed, machine baguettes and make fun of me when I find village bread and buy it. It's a treat for Jackie, Katherine and I to have Tapalapa and an even bigger treat when paired with fresh honey! Breakfast prepared Tamar, Laura, and I for a walk into the village to buy supplies for dinner. Soon enough we all piled on a charette, horse cart, and headed off to a campement across the island where we spent the afternoon sunning ourselves, going swimming in the delta, and discussing how crabs breath.

We took a long walk back to Tamar's house and started making our chicken dinner. We wanted to make a chicken dinner American Style for the women in Tamar's family. Chicken is a big treat and we wanted to see how they would react to our cooking. The plans were so well laid, but they obviously didn't work out. It was past 7 by the time the chickens arrived and were butchered, the grill kept going out because the wood was too wet, and we only had one gas to work with. Although we wanted to grill the chicken, a pan fry was still delicious. And the women actually loved our sweet potato chips and onion rings! That's right we made onion rings instead of onion sauce. Anyone who knows me well, knows my weakness for onion rings. They were delicious. Katherine and I were really excited about them.

This morning Jackie, Katherine, and I packed up our stuff and headed back to site. The trip was a really nice break. Tamar was a great hostess. She was probably very stressed, but it was very relaxing for me! Mar Lodj is beautiful, my family wasn't annoying me, and I had a minute to take a breath before the insanity of the next 6.5 weeks starts up.

Pictures of the trip are up in the "Cape Verde" album. Check them out.

JA Commencement

Last night I went to sleep on the wrong side of the bed because my Aunt Numbe decided it was super important for her to ask me for a piece of paper and a pen at 10:45pm, after I had already locked my door and gotten into bed, and several hours after the power went out. This morning I woke up on the wrong side of the bed because we had no water. There was literally no water in the compound and I really wanted to take a run. Usually the lack of water would just generally upset me and then I would relent, run, and then walk back to the center and take a shower. Wednesdays always pose problems because I have Junior Achievement and I always have things to take care of at the last minute.

Realizing that not running was going to make me more angry, I went and concocted a plan to get water. The plan is not creative or inventive since there's only one way to get water when it's not coming out of the spigot, but it was taking matters into my own hands. Still dressed in running clothes, sweating, and red in the face, I grabbed a basin and headed to the neighborhood well. At the well I was greeted with blank stares and jeers, but remained undeterred. After almost 45 minutes of waiting, being mocked, and being cut in line it was finally my turn. Victory. A nice girl helped me lift the basin to my head and I got home without spilling too much, but since it was 9:30am no one was awake to help me take if off my head. I had to push the top of our 50 liter tank off with my hip and then pour the basin into the big tank. The clattering of the metal top of the tank brought the girls out of the house and they were incredulous at my initiative/ ability. In order to really show my discontent about the water situation, I filled a bucket to shower with and then took the rest of the water I pulled, put it in another bucket, and locked it in room. Probably not the most mature move, but totally satisfying.

One of the reasons I was worried about timing today was today was the final day of JA and we were supposed to hand out certificates. The certificates were order eons ago and were supposed to be in Thies last night. No deal. I called Talla this morning and he was able to get the certificates here and I stood on the side of the road as he drove by and stuck the certificates out of the window. This was humorous mostly because Awa saw me both pulling my own water and waiting on the side of the road in order to receive a giant stack of paper. She thinks I'm really weird. With certificates in hand I ran into my room, sat down, and wrote in all of the students' names, the date, and the course.

I finished the certificates just in time to jump in a cab and go to Bon Marche to buy all of the treats for the graduation party. For the second time in a day I carried things on my head Senegalese style. I had a giant box full of cookies and pop on my head walking down the main street of Thies. I'll let your imaginations come up with how that looked/ the reactions that I received. Fortunately, Kerry fed me snacks and lemonade as we waited for Talla and his friend to arrive before heading to the Lycee Technique.

I've previously aired my grievances regarding certificates in Senegal. Today was my worst nightmare. With everything that's been getting under my skin lately this one just really dug in. As soon as we walked on the premises teachers were making sure that we had certificates not only for our students, but special ones for them as well. Over and over and over again. Luckily Kerry and Talla were there to keep me calm and keep things in perspective because otherwise things would not have gone well. I spent my morning making sure the certificates were perfect. They were in order according to project group, attached to the attendance sheet so that no one could come up and say that they attended class, but didn't get a certificate. I was already frustrated with the certificates because last week the head teacher told me that I had to give a certificate to every single student listed on any of the attendance sheets instead of just the students who had attended at least 50% of the classes as I wanted. I just don't understand how the certificates are special if everyone gets one or how giving them out like candy reinforces anything positive. It also takes away from any feeling of accomplishment I might have, which I realize is selfish.

Today after all of the speeches, the students' presentations of their business ideas, and awarding the winning team a bunch of cookies, the teachers went through my perfecting organized certificates so they could reorganize them in exactly the same way. Apparently, I forgot two students. What actually happened is that two students came to the last day of class so they could get certificates, which I was forced to give them. I think this just cheapens the entire process and underlines why there is so much complacency in Senegal.

That all being said, Junior Achievement is now over, or, at least, the teaching part is now over, which is one more thing to check off my list! I think the class went well and hopefully the students learned something. Kerry and I definitely learned a lot which will help other PCVs teach JA better in the future.

Tomorrow I am off to Mar Lodj, Tamar's island, and next week it's off to the races with Jazz Fest, COS conference, and the new stage of SED PCVs all coming in rapid succession!

Shake It, Shake It...

Shake it like a Polaroid picture.

Many moons ago when Matt was visiting Senegal he became transfixed with the idea of a Polaroid camera. Ahmed and the children of my neighborhood didn't need educational materials, or shoes, or other necessities...they needed a Polaroid camera. In Matt's defense, kids do LOVE having their pictures taken. And taking pictures here is a production. Small children and screaming and grabbing at you and pushing their way to the front of the group of children so that they are front and center in the picture. Once the picture's been taken it's imperative that everyone seems themselves on the screen of the digital camera and that we rehash the picture. Oh yes, that is you on the side... this happened 1.3 seconds ago. During Matt's trip we did have one particularly memorable photo session when an entire family stopped us on the road and demanded an impromptu photo shoot complete with smiling adults, sobbing children, and stray dogs.

Upon Matt's return to the States, the idea of the Polaroid stuck with him and he got me a Polaroid which traveled across the country to Katherine's boyfriend's office and then with Katherine across the Atlantic and to Senegal. I must say that I've been delinquent in bringing the Polaroid out mostly because Senegal and I haven't been getting along lately and I knew that it would be a hit. I had no idea how much my family would love the camera. To say that it caused a ruckus would be a vast understatement.

Today when the power was out I was trying to do some reading, but Ahmed was having none of it so, I grabbed the Polaroid and the madness ensued. Ahmed was immediately intrigued by a new camera. The boy is a ham. He was shocked when a picture magically came out of the camera, but then infinitely disappointed when there wasn't an image, only a glossy white finish. Invoking the infamous Outkast song, I told him he needed to shake the picture and it would appear. This was all too much. He went insane. As the picture started to appear Ahmed darted inside the house, shaking the picture the entire time, running around showing everyone the magic picture.

Pictures in Senegal are generally reserved for special occasions and snapshots are not the norm. Therefore, people are usually hesitant about having their pictures taken when they aren't dressed to impressed, much less on a Sunday afternoon when everyone looks like a lazy scrub. Ahmed's excitement generated interest and before I knew it there was a line. My mom loved the the camera, process, and resulting picture so much that she made Ahmed go upstairs and take a picture of my host dad to show him how cool the camera was. This is the best picture I have of my mom and myself:

There are a bunch of other pictures, but they've been commandeered. I hope that I can at least take pictures of them because some are really funny since Ahmed was the photographer.

It wasn't just the girls and the little kids who showed interest though. Baye and Petit (Jeenaba's older brother) were adamant about getting their pictures taken. They saw the pictures later in the day and sent Ahmed to my room and to get me and the camera so they could have their own pictures. The whole picture taking experience was pretty funny. Everyone was really in to it. I also like that they thought they looked better in these pictures than regular pictures; I'm pretty sure that's just a case of instant gratification.

After a while I had to put the camera away to conserve film. I definitely want to bring it out at least once when Ahmed has little friends over and show it to Dioss because I think he would really like it. Matt was right! The Polaroid was a huge success. Thank you so much for providing me with such a fun afternoon activity!

Glimpses of America

The past couple of days Thies has been full of American visitors and it's been great. Erin's parents are here and Tamar has a friend in town and I have willingly participated in their Thies experiences.

Yesterday, after a morning spent hanging out around the house, holding babies, and continuing my virtual job search, I headed across town to the Catholic bar to meet Erin and her parents and Emily for a drink. Erin's parents spent two days and two nights night her village which makes them total champs and they were just incredibly nice people. Exactly who you would expect Erin's parent's to be.

Today Tamar who has a friend visiting from the States as well as Erin and her parents were in Thies. I started out the morning walking through the market with Katherine trying to find fabric. Katherine's tailor Matar has finally perfected what Katherine and I like to call "the Tory Burch" tunic and we're having several made before we head back home. I'm also hoping he can turn a tunic into a tunic dress... we'll see what kind of clothes I come back with after Jazz Fest! I found two different fabrics that I really like. One went back with Katherine to go to Matar and I kept one in Thies in the hopes that Khady and I can work on making a really cute dress together at her tailor's.

Katherine and I went to Bon Marche and picked up a delicious picnic lunch (read: massive amounts of cheese) to share with Jackie at the center. Tamar and her friend arrived in Thies from Dakar early so the five of us ate lunch together before heading back out to the market, a nice visit with Mme. Ly, and a beer at Pamanda's.

As I was walking home from the center after a long day I got a text from Erin inviting me to Chicken Dibi. Well, a dibi invite is fairly impossible to refuse. I didn't want to go home because that creates a whole fiasco when I want to leave again for dinner so I decided to sit at Les Delices and wait for them. Most of the way to Les Delices I get a call from Erin saying they're going back to the center so I turn around and walk all the way back. I circled Thies at least twice today. A big group of us ended up going to the speakeasy by the center for a drink before dibi. The speakeasy is really stepping up their game, which, I assume, is in no small part due to Peace Corps Volunteer patronage. Anyway, they have a fence now which separates their house from our shenanigans and two bathrooms. Why do I mention the two bathrooms? Because one door says "uriner" and the other says "cacas." Classic. It seriously made my day.

Chicken Dibi never disappoints. I hadn't been in several months and it was great to go back. It's always so delicious!

Seeing people from the US is always great. They look so clean and shiny and are so happy to be experiencing Senegal. It also gives you a little glimpse into life back at home and almost makes you feel like you aren't missing too too much. What brings America even that much closer is what Tamar brought us from Dakar. Currently sitting on my desk is my COS packet. It details much of what I will learn at my COS conference next month: how to wind down your service and readjust to the US of A. Lets just say I don't think I'm going to need too much help getting back into the swing of things Stateside. But, things are starting to get real. We're getting down to the wire and home is within site, which is currently making things that much harder. The next 7.5 weeks are going to be insanity.

The Best Game

Last night I had a complete mental breakdown over a flashlight. Yes, a small piece of plastic with a battery that shines light. I sobbed in my bed, in the dark over a flashlight. It was sad. Senegal is really getting to me. The power was out last night and I had already eaten dinner so instead of staring (but not seeing) my family in the dark as we sat in silence I decided to go to my room and read in bed. The time was 10:35pm, not a weird time to go to bed. My door was closed, I was in my PJs, and I was enjoying a nice fashion magazine. Awa bursts into my room and demands the flashlight so she can heat up dinner for the rest of my family. Yes, it's not abnormal for them to eat at 11pm. I hesitated for a second since I was in bed reading, but in a blink the flashlight was out of my hand and I was having a temper tantrum in my bed.

The thin, thin line between family member, house guest, friend, and meal ticket is really getting to me. Everything is getting to me. I am a trusted confident and babysitter one minute and asked for additional money (I already pay A LOT) for food the next. My gas tank, matches, and other personal effects are taken because I shouldn't care right? and then I'm treated with respect and eat with my dad. I can't pull water, but I can't ask for water to be pulled because there isn't any. I want to be a normal adult so badly. Crying in ones bed in the dark doesn't usually denote maturity, but I did get over it just not before letting fly a string of profanities into my pillow.

Everything is driving me crazy and in my slow devolution back to my easily aggravated state of PST, I'm attracting crazy. Yesterday I was walking down the street when a man walked by me and pretty much gave me a noogie and tried to pull my ponytail out. Why? No idea. I started yelling at the top of my lungs at how terrible a man he was and pointing at him so that the busy street pull of people could see him. Or today when a man had to grab my arm to tell me that he needed a beautiful second wife like me. You are creepy. Stop. Not to mention all of the men on the street making kissing noises. A word to the wise: toubabs are not deaf; I'm ignoring you. And people are just catching on to this. As I was walking down my street today boys my age were making lewd comments and I was ignoring them, but when small children run up and want to shake my hand and ask questions I always take the time to talk (children are our future after all). The boys just started commenting on the fact that for some magical reason I somehow hear the nice children, but don't hear them. Who would have thought? There was also a boy who hit me with a clot of dirt shot with a slingshot. Lets just say that his mother wasn't too pleased with him after I literally dragged him to her and explained what happened. I seriously need some crazy repellent.

After my exhausting day of artisans yesterday and my general annoyance with the vast majority of Senegalese men, I was dreading Junior Achievement today. Especially because Kerry is out of town so I was flying solo and had to teach The Best Game. The Best Game is pretty much the Game Of Life and teaches basic finances and calendar planning. It is a no fail business lesson. Everyone always loves it. I planned to meet all the teachers in the teacher lounge 30 minutes before class so I could explain it to them. A terrible process to be sure. So, I was ecstatic when one of the teachers knew the game and wanted to teach it.

In The Best Game groups make paper hats which they then sell. The teams need to figure out that they have to take the risk to produce the hats in order to generate profit and be successful at the game. I spoke with the teacher before class started about giving quick instructions because we wanted the students to figure things out for themselves. It's best when one team epically fails and one team does well so we can discuss the differences in strategy. 47 minutes later, after I had written a journal entry, planned out the next week on my calendar, and texted back and forth with a few people, the teacher finished his explanation of the game. This is not a joke. He literally took 47 minutes (I timed it) to explain the game/ give away all of the little tricks and tell the students exactly what to do.

I know that I was personally bored to tears and even some of the other teachers came up to me to discuss how it might have been better to let the students figure things out. Regardless, everyone really enjoyed the game and hopefully learned something. I had cookies for the winners so they were pleased. We only have one more week of class! Next week is final presentations and certificate time! Things are winding down...

Because I've been having a rough 10 days I thought I deserved a reward, even though I had lunch with the girls yesterday. Since I couldn't reward myself with what I really want (some friends and family time in the best country in the world), I had to settle for the next best thing: dairy products. A giant block of cheese really made me feel better today.

Artisan Association II

Today featured two big events. The first was totally fun and the second, slightly annoying, but overall effective.

The Thies/ Dakar region finally has our very own Health/Environmental Education PCV and today was her inauguration lunch. Lisa was thrown into the deep end since almost everyone was able to attend and when we all get together it's hard to stop us for even a second to do introductions or explain anything. It is a special kind of bond when everyone can talk at the same time about myriad topics and start in the middle of stories and we all understand everything.

I've been eagerly anticipating today's afternoon event, the artisan reseau meeting, for several weeks. The meeting marks the second formal meeting of the association and also provided me with a forum to speak directly to the artisans instead of over the phone where we've all suffered misunderstandings and miscommunication. The association meeting started at 3pm so that the artisans had the majority of the day to travel to Thies and so that the PCVs could meet to discuss the Jazz Fest and other artisan things over lunch and perhaps a beverage or two to take the edge off.

When Katherine and I arrived at the center about 15 minutes before three 3pm I was stunned to find several artisans already ready, waiting, and mingling. Madame Ly threats regarding timeliness seem to work for some... they definitely don't for others. After a brief powwow with Talla to go over the main points of the meeting we were ready to start.

I was very pleased with the turnout. An artisan for PCV was present for each artisan attending the St. Louis Jazz Fest and one artisan from Kaolack who isn't even going to the Jazz Fest also came, which I thought was a bonus. I have to admit that I have been hoping that a female artisan from Kaolack named Ndeye would drop out. I'm not impressed with the plethora jewelry and weird cloth things she makes and it's just harder to coordinate with someone further away, but she's fantastic and deserves all the credit in the world. Katherine and I imposed fairly difficult restrictions on her about money for Jazz Fest, getting to the PCV in Kaolack in a timely fashion, plus she will have the greatest costs getting herself and her goods to Kaolack. She's been up to the challenge and is a very sweet woman. Ndeye is obviously hardworking, entrepreneurial, and independent woman. All that being said, there are still only two booths and seven artisans. It's going to be tight.

We discussed how there is only a limited amount of space that the artisans have to share and about the importance of at least attempting a somewhat cohesive look for the tables. After a long and drawn out discussion about space we finally got how to break down the costs of the tables. Since there are two tables and seven artisans, we were thinking one table of 3 and one table of 4 with the 70k price tag split amongst the artisans at that table. At first the artisans were going to split it evenly, but they finally figured out that they should split it amongst the table members. This lead to an infuriating discussion over who would be at each table led by Katherine's tailor, Matar. It was very important to him that he and his boy posse of Demba (Alys' leather worker in Mboro) and Mamadou (April's woodworker in Diourbel) be the three man table. I don't really know how this conversation spiraled out of control since no one was against Matar's idea, but it did. I just hope that the artisans don't freak out when they actually see the booths. We told them the exact dimensions and kept reiterating the small space and that people (aka Mme. Ly) can't bring all of their usual stuff. I'm expecting disaster, but we'll see what happens.

Division of tables and costs lead to what I knew would be the most frustrating part of the meeting: dues collection. I've been singing the praises of the women from Kebemer (cloth bag makers who don't have a PCV) because they are well organized even without a PCV and really know what's going on. At the last meeting I was pleased that they wanted to head up the Treasury because I thought they could handle it. Turns out, they don't actually write things down when keeping track of dues. Excellent. I ended up writing everyone's financial information on a giant sheet of flip chart paper so the treasurer could re-write it and all of the artisans could be sure that no one was getting cheated and that everyone was paying the correct amount. The amount of back and forth this necessitated was amazing. There was also a huge discussion over whether dues paid by members not attending Jazz Fest would be going to pay for the event. Lets just say that the idea of a communal pot and the true idea of an association has not quite taken hold yet. The money issues were solved as best they could. PCVs are still out money that they fronted, but I'm prepared to play bad guy at Jazz Fest to make sure that everything balances. Talla was instrumental in getting the money issues understood and solved. We couldn't have done it without him.

Amanda, the third year based in Dakar who works with the West African Trade Hub and who connected the reseau with the gallery owner in St. Louis, attended the meeting to explain the gallery. I was really happy she could come to explain the level of quality, creativity, and professionalism the gallery owner demanded so there was a separation between myself and that aspect of Jazz Fest. Especially since I didn't want it to appear that Mme. Ly was receiving special treatment since she will be exposing at the gallery and I'm largely seen as the PCV in charge. She did a really good job and I hope that she inspired the other artisans to take a look at the gallery and think about how they can improve their products so they could potentially exhibit in a gallery one day.

Three hours after the meeting began Talla, the artisans, and the volunteers were getting restless and we were done. A couple of minutes after most of the artisans left and I was sitting around with Katherine and April, Mamadou and Demba arrived. Three hours late. They were flabbergasted that the meeting was already over. Fortunately, Matar was still there and rehashed the meeting for them because I was too exhausted at that point to explain everything, again.

The meeting was definitely a success. I feel much better knowing that everything has definitely been relayed to all of the artisans and that there were no communication problems since Talla was there. I know that there are going to be problems with transportation, lodging, food, and space in St. Louis, but now that those problems have been presented and are out in the open they are no longer my problems; they are the artisans problems. Hopefully everything will go well. Now, my only St. Louis challenge, until the actually event, is to convince Mme. Ly that she absolutely cannot bring her giant/ ridiculous amount of product. Good luck to me

When Things Become Normal

One of my stagemates wrote a fantastic blog post that describes my current state of mind. She put it much more eloquently and nicely than I could have. Her name is Maya and here is the link to her post:
http://mayaenroute.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/the-hangover-of-adventure/

I love her term "The Hangover of Adventure." I'm trying to think of something stronger/ worse than a hangover because that's what I'm suffering from.

Since all of the little things are really starting to get to me again (I was asked for my sunglasses 7 times today), I've been spending more time at the center because it's quiet and I can think and be in peace. I've also had a ton of computer work to do, which is much easier to do when I have a reliable source of power, which the center's generator provides me with.

Things are starting to get quite hectic with the artisan expo for the St. Louis Jazz Fest. I cannot wait for it to be over. Working with artisans has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my service and definitely the most quantifiable, but all of the money issues and all of the phone calls are getting to me. So, so, so many phone calls from artisans. The meeting is tomorrow and I think we're going to have pretty good attendance. Whether or not they come baring dues and are ready to discuss St. Louis logistics is still up in the air. I've been working on the flyer to promote the gallery. We're hoping to get some banners printed up as well.

Here's what the flyer currently looks like. And don't critique my French; it, undoubtedly, needs some editing.


I haven't been spending much time at home because my family is driving me insane and trying to force feed me intestine stew. Intestine stew is a perfect example of "The Hangover of Adventure." It used to be interesting, I tried it, it's edible, but why would I eat it now? Awa is still pregnant although, she seems increasingly unhappy about it, we have a new maid whose name is Adama, and Ahmed is being a little terror.

Over It

The past couple of days have not been good day. I have been busy which is good since a large part of my frustrations in Senegal have come when I have nothing to do. Jazz Fest is starting to become insane and I'm really looking forward to the Artisan Reseau meeting on Tuesday so I can hopefully transfer some of the responsibility and planning over the artisans. Junior Achievement is going well since we actually had class this week and I've already procured the materials for next week's class and read over the instructions for the class so I feel prepared. I'm also occupying (maybe stressing a little bit!) myself with finding a job, getting my pictures in order, and preparing myself for the final stretch of my service and all of the tough goodbyes which I know are just around the corner.

Before Peace Corps Senegal I was fairly tightly wound (some might say I still am) and frustration used to send me over the edge. Frustration in not being able to understand a school subject, or frustration with traffic (oh my, I hope this has eased since my next permanent residence is known for traffic), or just general frustration that was putting me a bad mood. Peace Corps has been so good for me. I've learned to let go and to sit and not do anything and know that's OK. My ability to be patient has increased a million fold. Creative problem solving is something I'm actually good at now. Small children don't send me running. I'm much less quick to anger. I've learned to adapt. All of this has been part of the transformation I've experienced from dealing with and struggling with the every day realities of Senegal.

At the 2 month mark (during PST) everything bothered me and I could barely deal with it and I wanted to go home. At the 6 month mark I was begining to understand that things are truly different here and that I had to accept and adapt. At the year mark I came to understand why Peace Corps is a two year commitment and I hit my stride. (My friends and I had a blast at the amazingly successful girls' camp and the Artisan Expo almost tripled 2009 sales). At the 18 month mark I started to realize the end was near, created a laundry list of things I still wanted to do and accomplished, and became a "senior" in the Peace Corps as a member of the next stage who is scheduled to leave; I realized I had made it. At 21 (almost 22) months I'm freaking over it.

The little things that I've spent the past almost two years learning how to ignore and let run over my shoulders are back...with a vengeance. I've moved well past anger. It's not anger. It's frustration and a sense of "why?" Or, SERIOUSLY!?!?!?!

WHY...!?!?!?!?!
Yesterday my family made a lunch that I'm not a big fan of. I will definitely eat it, just not a lot. It's obvious that I'm not the amazing shrinking woman and my family knows that I have my own snacks which I eat in my room, just like they do. Well, around lunch Jeenaba came into my room with eggs, a little salad, and bread. I thanked her and thought that our interaction was over. She sheepishly looks at me and says that my mom would like me to pay her for the lunch. I was dumbfounded. I didn't know how to react and I knew if I did react it would involve tears, profanity, and general inappropriateness (another thing I've learned: to keep my mouth shut). After eating the meal (even though I wasn't happy about it), I went into the house to explain for the millionth time that if I don't like something I will make my own meal. All of the women started chiming in that I'm a terrible cook and that the food isn't good. It's good to me. I don't like all of their food just like they don't like my food. Well, that argument fell on deaf ears as usual. I can't even really think about this situation without becoming enraged so I've decided it's best not to delve into the psychology behind this episode...especially since I pay my family an exorbitant amount each month for my rent, food, and water and electricity (which I never have).

When trying to woo me, do not point out the fact that the increase in the temperature has brought back my acne. Seriously, how terrible at flirting can you be? This prompted me to leave the post office without responding to the question and without saying goodbye. Also, how many times do I have to tell everyone that there's no way I will ever be a second wife.

With my frustrations mounting and my inability to eat ceeb for lunch, I left my house this morning and headed to the center for some quiet time. I didn't need anyone to tell me that I am sleeping when I'm sitting up-right with my eyes open reading a book. I didn't need to be told that the cleaning job I did wasn't good enough. And I didn't need to be told that I can't cook/ can't do anything in general. I can ignore the racial slurs, proclamations of love, and honking cars. What I can not ignore is a large man standing right in front of me. There's a part of the sidewalk on my way to the center where the sidewalk narrows so it's just one person wide. A man stood up from a chair and stood on this part of the sidewalk with his hands on his hips so I couldn't pass and had to walk in the street. When he confronted me about walking around him I lost it. Let's just say my tirade ended when he called me racist and I walked away.

I'm so over all of these little annoyances and instances of disrespect, or thinking that they can get away with it/ are entitled to it because I'm white. After two years a lot of people around Thies have at least seen me and know I'm not a tourist, I wish this brought me a little respect. I'm over the homesicknesses of America, I'm past missing my family and friends (it's way beyond that), I can survive another two months of ceeb. All I want is a little respect.

We Had Class!

Yesterday we actually had a Junior Achievement class. Miracle of miracles. It didn't look too promising when Kerry and I arrived at the Lycee Technique and the teachers' lounge was locked, but we were able to secure our materials box from one of the secretaries which really happens because she's never there so, before class started we were at a draw. Then the room where we usually have class was locked and there's obviously only one key and the person who had that key was not at school that day. Never fear we will squeeze fifty people into a tiny room with not enough chairs. I'm actually not going to complain about this part since it was a tech room so it was air-conditioned to protect the electronics!

The class actually went really well. Unfortunately, since so many classes were cancelled we've had to combine several classes in order to fit in everything before our June 1st graduation. Yesterday's class was about marketing which was supposed to be two classes so the students could conduct a short market research survey. Kerry went to the Lycee on Monday to drop off the market survey, which the teachers were supposed to distribute to the students. This didn't quite happen, but we still had a good discussion about what market research is, why it's important, and how to conduct a survey. At this point Kerry and I are doing very little teaching. We prepare the lesson plans a week ahead so the Lycee Technique teachers have a chance to look them over. Two teachers have really stepped up and do the majority of the teaching with Kerry and I interjecting some information or explaining an activity.

The majority of yesterday's class was dedicated to the students writing and performing television commercials for their business. One was great, but I thought the other two missed the mark since they didn't really have anything visual or catchy. Definitely something to mark in the lesson plan: must have visual if doing a TV commercial. Next week I'll be flying solo and teaching a finance game that's a lot like The Game of Life. We'll see how that goes. Hopefully the teachers and students will catch on quickly and like the game!

Yesterday afternoon Kerry and I hung out at Les Delices talking about JA and enjoying some electricity. On my walk home I was in my usual walk mode: iPod on, looking straight ahead, and pretending to ignore everything in front of me. When a car keep honking at me as I walked down the street I ignored it. Cars honk at me a lot and I could tell it wasn't a Peace Corps car so there was no reason to turn around. Finally the car pulled in front of me and park. The car/ person I had been ignoring for over a block was my host dad who was trying to be nice and give me a ride home! Oops! He thought I had my music playing really loud, but I explained that people honk at me a lot so I just ignore it. He seemed to understand the explanation and not think too much about it. My mom definitely enjoyed the story when we got home and my dad told her my mistake!

Today was a fairly chill day. I did some work around my house this morning, which always invites criticism from my family since they still think it's impossible for me to do work in my room and that I'm always sleeping when I'm in my room alone. Yes, this is still frustrating me. This afternoon on my way back home from the Peace Corps center I saw two girls get into a huge fight in the middle of the street. One girl was accusing the other of stealing her boyfriend while at the same time screaming that her boyfriend is homosexual (a very derogatory name to be called in Senegal). It was really intensse. The girls were straight up fighting in the middle of the street and one almost got run over by a car when the other one pushed her. It was quite entertaining, if not infinitely dangerous for the two girls involved. Definitely the most interesting part of my day.

Now, I'm waiting for dinner, which I have confirmed is chicken. My mom proclaimed an hour and a half ago that we were going to eat "early." It's now 8:45pm. The wait is on.