Damn bugs

There’s a certain point when you know you’re a real Peace Corps volunteer, and sometimes that comes when a project you put tons of time and care into fails. I came home from the regional house the other day for Christmas, and was extremely happy that I had brought home my guitar and finally had a chance to practice and play for my family here a little bit. Unfortunately, the first thing I noticed is that my entire garden was wilted and dead, guava pepiniere included. There were thousands of little insects running around, and then when I showed Arame what had happened, she was super surprised. She is generally responsible for watering my garden while I’m gone, and she doesn’t mind doing it, but she failed to notice that somebody has placed a large pile of peanut fodder next to my millet fencing by the horse stable, and the bugs were emerging from it and eating everything in their path. After hearing tons of stories from other volunteers about trees being demolished by goats and people failing to water their pepinieres, I feel that I can now contribute to the pool of Peace Corps failures and be initiated into our world of disappointment. At least I can be thankful that my diet is not dependent on my garden and I will still have dinner tonight. I can’t imagine what it is like for farmers who have their harvests demolished and nothing to sell or eat. Makes you think.

Another thought-provoking conversation: women in Senegal. Learning about women and gender roles here is an ongoing process, but the last two days were especially weird for me. Yesterday, I was helping Arame cook lunch by cutting onions and garlic for her, and I noticed an empty packet of birth control pills in the binoir next to me. I asked her who owned them, and she hesitantly said that she did, and asked if I knew what they were. I replied that I did and explained, and she was embarrassed, assuming that I wouldn’t be able to answer. After reassuring her that it is more than just ok, I explained that I thought it was fantastic and many women in America use them as well, and if she has any questions she can feel free to ask me. It is extremely liberal and forward-thinking for a Senegalese woman to wait until after 20 to have a child, then go on birth control to prevent from getting pregnant immediately afterwards, and I am very proud of her initiative. On the other hand, Hadi, my younger sister who is 15 or 16, has a child a year old, and I just noticed today that she was pregnant again. This is not particularly unusual, but it is sad that I can actually notice a real difference in both Diama’s and Babacar’s mannerisms and maturity levels both at a year old. Of course every child is different, but Diama is clearly learning more about the world at a faster pace than is Babacar, since Hadi is not nearly as attentive or caring of a mother as is Arame.

The differences in education level show as well; though Arame did not make it much past an elementary school level, she can read a bit and understands a little bit of French. I don’t know any other women at the top of my head that can read anything in Keur Andalla (aside from Oumi, but she is an outsider as well) and this became a topic of conversation today. Seey, my neighbor, looked at my book that I was reading today, and I asked her if she could read. She adamantly replied that she could not, so I asked if she wanted to learn. She basically replied “Sure, if you’ll teach me” so I told her there was a class in Saloum Diane for women to learn to read. She laughed at me and told me there wasn’t any time, she has to cook lunch and go pull water from the well every day, how could she ever think of actually learning something else? Meanwhile, Arame will occasionally pull out her old French books and study with me when I get up the motivation to review my Wolof books, and she keep telling me that she wants to go back to school and continue her studies despite having to raise Diama and cook and pull water just like all the other women in the village. Remember in my last blog post how I wrote about the differences in education level and how people can compare themselves to one another easily here? Case and point.

Anyway, tomorrow is New Years! God knows how I will make it till midnight seeing as I generally pass out before 10 here, but I’m sure I’ll figure something out. A group of us are meeting up in Toubakouta, renting out some rooms in a campemont, going out for a nice dinner and potentially jumping in the delta. Should be a good time- much different than the American version of the festivities, but fun nonetheless. Enjoy it everybody, and here’s to a good 2011!