A year in

I have been in Senegal for a year now.

The new "stage" of Agriculture and Agroforestry volunteers have been in the country for a month. The veteran volunteers from last year are all starting to go home. (Well, not all of them. A fair number are sticking around to help with trainings, work on special projects, etc for the next 6 months to a year.) Do you remember that moment in high school when you realized other people were looking up to you? That you were the one with all the answers? I'm supposed to be that person here, now. Crazy!

Really, what I have done for the last year is just learn. I have learned the Wolof language (not well...but...), I have learned about the culture. I have learned how to grow things like sorghum, millet, cassava.



However, I have not learned how to be creative and come up with ideas for blog posts. Forgive me.



At a suggestion from my sister, some details about different projects in Senegal:

• There is a volunteer in my region who has acquired funding to build a seed-storage warehouse. This will make it easier for farmers to save their own seed. Seed can be expensive. And, if kept in the home, the risk of insect or rodent damage is pretty high. Not to mention that it is also easier to just eat that seed when other food runs short. This warehouse project has also facilitated some community-building work. There is now an organization of farmers who will use this building. They have already participated in group trainings. With this warehouse bringing them together, it will be easier for them to use each other as resources, learn what other farmers are doing, etc.


• Another project is planting "intensive beds" of Moringa olifera at schools and throughout a community. Moringa is a fast growing tree. The leaves are excellent nutrition (ie: if Popeye had eaten moringa instead of spinach, Bruno never would have even thought of looking at Sweetpea). Fully grown, moringa trees can be used for fuel wood because they coppice easily. They can also be used for live fence posts. However, the goal for an intensive bed is to plant a whole bunch of moringa really close together (ie: 10 cm spacing) and harvest the leaves every two months. This means that when the trees are as high as your waist, you are cutting them down to your knees.


• School gardens. There is a group of volunteers who are putting together an educational curriculum to be used in conjunction with a school garden. This way, teachers can take their math and science classes outside. The students can learn how agriculture is really something that needs some basic education in order to be effective and profitable. A few goals here 1) increase adolescent nutrition by having fresh fruits and vegetables available at school 2) teach the children techniques and technologies that they can pass along to their parents 3) make the education applicable for what many of these students will be doing for the rest of their lives.


• Master Farmer Program. There are 15-20 Master Farmers throughout Senegal. This is a pilot program. Peace Corps received funding eartagged for food security and created this project. We have selected qualified, respected farmers strategically located across the country. We fenced a hectare of their property, brought water to it (a spigot or a well), and made them give us free rein. :) The goal is to create demonstrations that the Master Farmer can disseminate to his colleagues. We are showing the importance of timely thinning/weeding, different fertilizer efficacies, the power of mulching, etc. In my Master Farmer's field, we have corn, millet, beans, hot pepper, eggplant, and rice. He has also planted the beginnings of a "live fence" (primarily thorny trees are trimmed short to make them bush out, then grow tall to keep all kinds of animals out) all around the inside of the fencing. And he has planted guava, lime, orange, mango, cashew, lucaena, and moringa within the field. Next week, for the first time, we will host a "field day". Approximately 100 farmers and NGO workers will come visit his field. He will explain why the technologies and techniques displayed work well (and, since they are demonstration plots, one can visibly SEE how they worked better than the traditional methods). Hopefully his friends and neighbors will take this information and put it into use in their own fields. Farmers teaching farmers is more effective than little white girl teaching farmers. ;)


• Universal Nut Sheller. Women here spend hours on end shelling peanuts. Literally, until their fingers bleed, all day, every day, from mid-November until the end of February. We are promoting a new type of manually operated machine that shells peanuts 41 times faster than a woman can by hand. That's right. In one hour, this machine can shell 50 kilos. And it would take 41 women to shell that same amount in that same time. If peanuts are shelled faster, that means that women have more time. More time to do things like garden. :) The machine is also very economical and an entire village can buy one, use it communally, and pay it off in no time at all.


• Some other random programs: fruit dryers (mango season is just so short...), potato fields (potatoes here are kind of tempermental), compressed fuel sources (using leaves and paper to make briquettes for cooking instead of using wood or charcoal), building wells and latrines (for increased sanitation)....

We are all over here in Senegal, saving trees and hugging babies...or saving babies and hugging trees... :) As we like to say, "Developing the s*#t out of Senegal!"

One year down, one to go.

Smokey Bear would not be proud, but my Dad might be

I always try to be open-minded in the village.
Someone tells me we're going to the bush and I say, "Why, yes, I'll go!" And I don't really ask questions.

So I didn't ask questions when Ouly asked me if I wanted to go to the bush yesterday. I saw Ouly grab a rake and watched her take a few pieces of millet stalk out of the fence. Fanne didn't bring anything along (other than her 9 month old daughter tied to her back).

We walked about 2 kilometers out into the "bush", really to the women's wet-season garden area. Enjoying the late afternoon. A nice stiff breeze cooling us down as we walked and had a good cultural exchange: A Wolof passer-by says "jerejef" to the worker in the field, the worker responds "jamm rekk". A Pulaar du Nord passer-by says "adjarama" to the worker in the field, the worker responds (ooops...I wasn't paying attention well, I forget their response, it is, however, not "jam tan" which would be the logical response). And, yep, that's right, folks, we Americans don't say "thank you!" to the worker in the field. Ever. Nope. We never show our gratitude toward farmers. And a farmer seldom feels inclined towards thinking "peace only" while in the field. Ouly and Fanne are completely confused that we don't automatically yell "Thank you!" when we see a farmer at work in America.

So. What was our mission? What were we going to do on this breezy afternoon? Oh. Right. Burn a bunch of thorns.

We could have been doing anything... using a rake to knock random fruits out of a tree, clearing a field, preparing a garden bed... And we did not have a 5 gallon bucket of water or a shovel. Which I have always been taught is needed before stricking a match. Thankfully, we were burning dead thorns about 2 weeks after other people have. Which means that there was green grass surrounding everything. Still. Stiff wind. Ouly breaks up some of the millet stalks to have some tinder. Fanne takes off her head wrap for me to hold as a wind break while she strikes a match.

Soon, I realize that my short-lived anxieties were purely that. The thorns are creating a bramble that flames cannot reach. The wind is pushing the fire away from the brush and into the grass, where it is promptly dying. The problem is not the potential of a massive burn, but running out of matches! I found myself wishing for a quart of fuel to toss on the thing.

I start working with the situation. Gathering up some dead grass and leaves to coax the fire on the north side since the wind was coming from the south. Finding some sticks, rearranging the brambles. Vaguely saying "uh huh" to the "Thorns hurt!" "It is hot!" "Maybe you should sit in the shade" "Careful!" comments coming my way. Soon, my little fire is gaining ground (so to speak) and I am quietly bringing large branches of thorns over to feed my fire. The fuzzy voice that I've been zoning out says, "Ouly Cisse, she can burn things!"

I'd forgotten what it felt like, hearing someone tell you you CAN do something. I've gotten pretty used to not being able to speak Wolof, not being able to eat with my hand, not being able to farm, not being able work in the sun....you name it, I'm told that I can't do it.

And I got to explain why it is that I can burn things. How did I acquire this amazing knowledge?

I sat back, felt my eyebrows to make sure they were still there, and I was reminded of a time that seems not so very long ago. When it was me and a couple of my pyromaniac sisters traipsing through the little horse pasture setting rose bushes on fire.

It felt that good. Life is good. Pyromaniacy is good.

Sheep go to Heaven, Goats go to .....

I put a great mix on my iPod the other day. It was fabulous. And then I changed it when I came in to Kaolack. And found myself in my village with CAKE's "Sheep Go To Heaven" stuck in my head....and it was no longer on my iPod to listen to.

We eat meals outside here. On the ground. Out of a big bowl. (have I mentioned this before?)

Several times during the day, sheep are moved past our compound, or else our sheep are moved in/out (depending on the time of day). This is a time of general turmoil and chaos.


I'm not feeling alright today, I'm not feeling that great
I'm not catching on fire today, Love has started to fade
I'm not going to smile today, I'm not going to laugh
You're out living it up today, I've got dues to pay
....
Now I just want to play on my panpipes, I just want to drink me some wine
As soon as you're born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time
Sheep go to Heaven
Goats go to Hell
Sheep, go to Heaven
Goats, go to...Hell
.....

The other morning, as I'm humming, I'm not going to laugh... in my mind around the breakfast bowl, everybody else gets up from the bowl to go herd the sheep.
Feeling rather pitiful and helpless, I continue eating. Until 4 pompous sheep come traipsing past me. Trotting in and out of people's huts.
I tell myself I'm a tough Schnur girl and if there is one thing I know it is how to herd animals. (Well, not cats, I haven't perfected that one yet....give me another year or so in Senegal...)
So. I get up from the bowl and walk over and chase the sheep out of the huts they are currently inhabiting.
Where? Where did I chase them?
Funny you should ask.
Triumphantly I turned around! And saw 4 mottled heads happily convened over the breakfast bowl.
Yeah......
I'm not feeling alright today, I'm not feeling okay...
So Ouly and Fanne come back. I meet them before we get to the bowl. The (oh!) sheepish look on my face quickly being won over by uproarious laughter.
So, what did we do?
Ouly and Fanne inspected the bowl. Scooped away the places the sheep's noses made divits in the millet. And we went back to breakfast.
As soon as you're born you start dying, so you might as well have a good time.

Oh, wait.
I'm not done.

As I stood up from the breakfast bowl, the two adorable kid goats that stay in all day everyday come dancing over.
They are just so darn cute!
And they promptly wiggle themselves inside of the netting and thorns protecting a mango sapling in order to supplement their breakfast.

GOATS! Go to ....

Alhams!

(So, I was really confused because I vividly remembered writing this post...and couldn't find it online. I just found it. Written out by hand in a notebook. Voila! So. Better late than never, right?: A CHRONICLE OF A ROUND TRIP ON THE ALHAM, KAFFRINE/KAOLACK.)

Alhamdulillah: Arabic phrase loosely translates to "Thanks be to God!"
Alhams: Undependable yet reliable (or vice versa) modes of public transport, similar to a school bus.

It is 5:39 a.m. I am awake a minute before my alarm is set to go off. I crawl out of bed as my toma knocks on my door, she is leaving early this morning to go collect firewood. I giggle to myself that she thought it necessary to wake me. While the alham can come as early as six, I have never witnessed it. I've never heard or seen the alham come through Dioly before 6:30. 5:41, I'm literally standing with one pants leg on when I hear a vehicle coming.
NO!
I speed up as I hear a honk getting closer. I'm pulling my shirt on when Ouly says, "Atcha!" outside my door (isn't that the universal "Come on, let's go!"?). I'm so happy I packed my bag last night.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I quickly lock my door and run out of my compound. My maam-goor (grandfather) has stopped the alham.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
The morning is cool and breeze carries the scent of eucalyptus on it. The alham creeks along the rutted sandy "jeep trail" (as I would refer to it at home), laying on the horn as we bounce through villages, dodging goats, kids, women carrying water, and empty market-bound horse carts. We stop near a mosque at 6:00. It is nodd, the dawn call to prayer. Most of the passengers disembark and silently perform their ablutions and prayers.
We continue on our way. The woman sitting in front of me has seen my fancy plastic bracelets (they are about as fancy as one could get for a quarter out of a vending machine in America about 15 years ago). Could I give her one? Just one? She'd trade me for one of her bracelets--whould I prefer silver or gold?
NO!
I hate this. I weasel out by telling her that although she's my friend, my maam gave me me these bracelets, I couldn't give them away.
The helper comes in to collect "pass" (fare) and I give 500 CFA. Nope. Not enough. He wants another 100 CFA.
NO!
Fine, whatever. Maybe the price of gas has gone up, maybe he's charging me for my bag. Path of least resistance my friend, path of least resistance.
My friend with the bracelets does not follow the path of least resistance. It appears that the fare has increased. And no one is too happy. I'm relieved I quietly paid the extra.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
The Alham pulls in to Kaffrine at 7:40 a.m. Good time!
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I text Susan, a PCV who lives in Kaffrine, and am reassured that banana pancakes or scrambled eggs or some other wonderful breakfast food will be waiting for me across town.
ALHAMDULILLAH!!!

Now, my "bus stop" seems to be turning into a miniature "garage" (the actual public transport depot). There are now 5 Alhams waiting where I used to find an alham and a couple of charets. Alhams all look similar. White or blue. Rainbow streamers. Pictures of religious icons. Rainbow writing proclaiming "Alhamdulillah" or "Baaye Fall" or some other slightly religious phrase. Stickers of lions, Nike signs, "City Boy" and Sony are plastered to the windows.
But none of these 5 look familiar to me.
NO!
I suddenly feel like I am at the real garage as 3 men run to me to take my bags and ask me where I am going. They tell me they know it and I politely disagree.
No one knows my town. Ask 10 people and they'll each know it by a slightly different name (& will likely only know it as where the enigmatic Omar Cisse lives). I look for one of the two drivers I would recognize. Nothing.
NO!
I go back to the first man. He convincingly knew the names of the itty bitty villages next to Dioly. I load up and wait. And wait. The alham finally starts and we start out of town.
NO.
Not in a familiar direction. My heart sinks. Just as I'm starting to wonder what to do, we pull in to the Total station.
ALHAMDULILLAH!
As small gallon-sized containers are filled with gas, two familiar faces come jogging toward the alham. Omar and Samba. My counterpart and his good friend (Samba will, eventually, start teaching me Pulaar du Nord, another language).
ALHAMDULILLAH!
I'm on the right alham! Omar and Samba are just as excited to see me as I am them. It has been a full month since I've seen them, since Samba took me on an early a.m. charet ride to meet another alham.
Life only gets better as we make one of the quickest trips to Dioly ever. The alham isn't full, we make few stops. Samba, Omar, and I are the last on, even though the destination is another 13k away. And we are deposited in Dioly right in front of our compound.
ALHAMDULILLAH!

Earth Day

Sorry, my creativity is waning.

I apologize for my long absence. However, between my last post and this one, I had training until the end of February. Two weeks after that, I had another week long training. Then I hid out in Kaolack for a few days while I finalized my trip details to America. :) I flew out of Dakar at 3:30 a.m. on the 25th of March, and arrived in Durango, CO 23 hours later at 10:30 pm. And I spent the next 3 days surprising my family. (Well, except for Alexis, my oldest niece, who I had told so that she could steal some winter-appropriate clothing from her mother for me. And Esther, the bride, who caught me online just before I left Senegal.) And I spent the following two weeks in America. So I've been a little busy.

Esther's wedding was amazing fun! So was getting to go hiking and picnicing in the snow. Talking to lots of family. Catching up with some friends. It was a blast!



So now I'm back in the land of 100+ temps, harmattan winds, warm water, and sandy food. Oh, Senegal.



But. Most importantly.

Today is Earth Day. And I think that everyone reading this blog knows how un-environmentally-activistic (can I make that a word?) I am. However. It is a good reminder to start making some small changes in our lives. I am over here, trying to teach people how to live sustainably. Trying to convince them to eat the healthy millet that they grow, rather than trading it for imported polished white rice on a 5 to 2 kilo ratio. Trying to teach them to support their own needs by each having a garden.

And I think that we in America need to learn this the most.

We do not live sustainably. Period.

So, today, try to do something to change that.

Start your garden. Don't have much space? Just plant a little herb garden. Try to provide for yourself, rather than relying on WalMart to serve your needs.

Plant a tree or 20. It might not increase your economical sustainability, but it'll sure increase your ecological sustainability. And didn't you need more shade in your yard anyway? Wouldn't you like an apple tree of your own? You need something to hang a hammock from, don't you? Doesn't your future child want a treehouse?

Decrease what goes into a landfill. Take out recycling. No recycling for glass, etc in your area? Try to reuse that stuff (I know, pretty sure I was told this in 3rd grade). Or find an excuse to go to where ever it is you need to go to get to the recycling plant. Use all your kitchen scraps, paper products, and leaves (dead or alive) to make a killer compost pile. No garden to use the compost in? Put it around one of the trees you just planted in your yard, donate it to a local community garden, ask a local nursery if they have some use for it, use it for potted indoor plants, or take it over to that neighbor who's always working in their garden.

Or. You can go all out. Do the fancy energy testing stuff in your house. Make sure you dispose of old electronics in the appropriate fashion (unsure? Call Radio Shack or Best Buy, they'll help you out). It is springtime--if possible, try to start walking or biking to work. Look in to alternative energy, the little solar charger I have does an excellent job at keeping my cell phone and iPod charged. Save rainwater to water with. Don't buy bottled water.

Just do something. Anything.

We're always talking about living within our means monetarily. How about we try to live within our means ecologically? I'm not saying to make a huge lifestyle change. I'm just suggesting we make a few tweaks to be more efficient in our consumption. Keep supporting the timber industry, just plant a couple trees, too. Don't feel guilty about throwing away recyclable things, just try to reuse some of them, too.

Help me out...

I really do want to write blog posts more than once a month. The problem is, whenever I leave my village, I quit thinking of things to write about. And it is a pain to write a blog post by hand and then retype it later. (And I have limited amounts of quality paper) (And you wind up with insanely long blog posts, sorry)

What you can do:
Ask me questions! Send me emails, comment on my blog, message me on FaceBook, whatever. I will answer any and all questions on my blog. I'm sure you can think of interesting things for me to write about that I could never imagine!

With your help, I could write a couple blog entries every couple weeks! Wouldn't that be lovely!

I didn't bring my DSM IV

I didn't bring my DSM IV to Senegal, I am, therefore, unable to diagnose myself. I however, am quite sure I am obsessed. I feel confident that I fulfill the required criteria.

Food is my obsession.

I eat a lot. My last name here is Cisse. Cisses like to eat. We supposedly like to eat rice. A lot. However, I just like to eat.
My day in food:

I make myself some hot cocoa, tea and or oatmeal in the morning. At about 9:30, God willing, my toma (namesake) brings me fonde (millet porridge). When I first came to Dioly, I was horrified at the thought of eating supper's leftovers for breakfast. So my toma started buying me fonde every morning. However, the jaay-fonde* (woman who sells fonde) is on vacation. I don't know for how long. So, this morning, after my hot chocolate and oatmeal with craisins**, at 10, I get called to "breakfast". Last night's leftovers. I'll leave you in suspense re: the dish, otherwise, what will I have to say about supper tonight? However, last night, Faatu told me I'd have to eat it until it was gone. And she did her best to hold me to it--always pushing more food in front of me.
If I have something snack-able, I have a snack or a cup of tea or a handful of candy. Today, I am full of breakfast. Faatu fed me well.
At 1:30, I am called to lunch. Today it is maafe. In the loosest sense of maafe. The three women in my compound rotate the cooking duty. Today is my toma's day. However, she also woke up at 5 a.m. to go to the bush and gather firewood today. Very little time was alloted for lunch prep. The rice is dry and slightly crunchy, the sauce thin, the fish more questionable than normal. I'm suddenly very happy that I was forcefed breakfast. I choke down what I can and slowly eat until I can politely and unsuspiciously say that I am full. I eagerly anticipate a bowl of soup later. Maybe I'll make my last box of Velveeta Shells & Cheese. Instead, I eat a handful or 4 of Sour Patch Kids***
8 is supper, tonight is cere mboom. Usually, it is one of my favorites. Tonight, I find myself longing for yesterday's cere suppome. It is better than lunch, but it is not nearly as tasty as normal.

Now, there is variety to my life.
The main dishes I eat for lunch:
Ceebu jen: rice cooked in oil and boullion topped with fish. I very rarely have vegetables in my ceebu jen. However, it is normally served with carrot, cabbage, eggplant, and the senegalese vegetable jaxatu. It can also be enhanced with hot pepper, lemon, tamarind, etc. There are 2 variations: ceebu xonq (red rice) has tomatoes, ceebu weex does not.
Maafe: steamed rice topped with peanut sauce. The sauce is peanut butter (real, no sugar), onions, boullion, oil and garlic. Usually, my maafe has tomato skins (no tomato flavor, just evidence of a lost life...) and fish bones (all the fish flavor, no evidence of the rest of the fish).
Yassa: Oh! Yassa! Steamed white rice topped with an incredibly tasty onion sauce. Sometimes, served with chicken (yassa poulet). Tomatoes can be added to the yassa, creating a different dish called chou, which is pretty much spanish rice...except sooo much tastier!
Ceebu yapp: On special occasions, we have meat with our rice. Usually goat. It follows the same methods as ceebu jen. All goat parts are used.

Dishes for supper:
We always have cere (ground millet "couscous") for supper. Topped with...
Baasi: very similar to the maafe sauce. Baasi nebbi has shelled beans added to it. Baasi nadia has winter squash. Baasi suppome has cabbage. Tasty. All of them. Unless dried fish has been added to the baasi. Or, if the baasi is only baasi...no other vegetable added to it.
Noungati: is shelled beans and minced/sifted peanuts mixed together. Very tasty. I know it doesn't sound like it. But it is.
Jen: just fish. Sometimes bissap (hibiscus) is added to it. It is a sad day when this is my supper.
Mboom: Green sauce made from the leaves of the moringa tree. Usually very tasty. Imagine cooked spinach, maybe.

Everyonce in awhile we have "lazy meals". You know, the meals when you just spend 2 minutes microwaving something? They are exactly like those microwave burritos. Sometimes you have them for breakfast, sometimes for lunch. They fill you up and give you a minimal amount of nutrients. One small difference. Burritos are tasty.
Mbahall: or, as I like to call it "bah! hell." Omar (counterpart) and Cora have both taken to start calling it "baaxul" (not good). It is steamed rice mixed with ground peanuts. Sometimes there is dried or salted fish in it. Dry. Full of untastiness.
Laax buii: a thick millet porridge topped by a sweet peanut butter/baobab sauce. Really not that bad. Just doesn't feel like a real meal. More of an after school snack.
And...my most recent initiation. I forget it's name. It is basically mbahall without the fish. And with milk and sugar. Better than mbahall, but worse than laax buii.

There are also very tasty "exotic" or "native" fruits/foods. First, the familiar: papaya, guava, banana, mango, citrus. The downside of the nativity is their extreme seasonal availability. And the frustration that comes from seeing people happily munching on unripe papayas. If I lived in a city--or heck, even a town, I could buy these things occassionally on a seasonal basis. In the village, there is no chance. **** The mango trees in my village are done blooming and have set on a LOT of fruits. Crazy how they can do such a thing when there hasn't been precipitation in MONTHS.
Then there are the not-so-familiar tamarind, bissap (hibiscus), buii (baobab/monkey bread), and the unknown, simpoo, dim, etc. Tamarind, bissap, and buii are all very tasty. Tamarind makes a nice tart addition to ceeb, bissap an amazing frozen popsicle treat (alas, only where there is refrigeration), buii is tasty to eat and drink. Dim is my current favorite. Because it is in season and everyone else seems to love it, too! It is kind of like a small-not-so-tart crabapple with a big pit in it (like a chokecherry). At the right time in ripeness, they almost have a caramelly taste. The tree/bush also makes excellent live fencing (being that, like most tasty things that grow in the wild, it has nasty barbs).
And the basic staple of life. Peanuts. They are everywhere and in everything. Cabbage and onions are in most dishes. Another local item is a vegetable called jaxatu which is "bitter tomato". It is sour, hard, and has a taste similar to a green tomato. But would not be improved when battered and fried. :(

I must mention "street food". At most crossroads, bus stops, in front of most butiks^ there will be sitting a wonderful sweet lady. A pot of boiling oil in front of her. A plate full of dough to the side. This angel from heaven rolls and slices the dough, drops it into the oil and voila! Doughnut holes! Sadly, no powdered sugar or glaze, but beggars can't be choosers. Chalk one up for the French colonization of Senegal--beignets are an excellent legacy!
Dibi shops. Bring your own bread. A man has random cuts of goat, beef, or even pig. He quickly cooks up the meat with onions. Scoop up the meat and onions with the bread. Yummy!!
The most satisfying part of life in Senegal: bean shacks. I remember feeling concerned when we first landed and drove through Dakar. There were lots of shocking sights. But what really struck me were these little shacks made of sheets. Oh! That someone might live there! ha!! These industrious women hang sheets around a bench every day around 8 a.m. It is the sign: "open, ready for business". Now, when I see a sheet flapping in the breeze, my mouth waters. Oh! A sammich! :) The fare is simple. Sandwiches. bean (think baked beans or chili beans) espaghetti (typically vermicilli cooked in onions and oil) boiled eggs, I even had marinade at one--turned out to be diced potatoes, carrots, and onions. Accoutrements are mayonnaise (seasoned with pepper and onion), kaani hot pepper sauce. Mix and match to your joy and desire. Hopefully the seller has dense "village" bread to put it on, or you will get "machine" bread. Machine bread is just hard crust. This fine woman also typically has cafe touba which is not coffee at all. But instead is a kind of spicy tea. All of this for at most 60 cents. Oh, bean shack ladies! You are my hero.
With that, I think you have it. My obsession in Senegal. The other nigt, a fellow volunteer and I stayed up until 2 a.m. listing off food we wanted to eat (American food). Crazy. This post is now making me crave yassa, bean sandwiches, mangos.
Definitely. Forget the DSM IV.
I am obsessed with food.

Addendum: Ceebu xonq
Please, I encourage you to replicate this at home. Not using your sink or running water or a cutting board....
You will need:
knife (1)
big slotted spoon (1)
large bowls (2)
large pot with lid (1)
mortar and pestle
Ingredients:
whole fish (5, creek trout size)
1/2 bulb of garlic
1 c cherry tomatoes
3 vegetable or chicken boullion cubes
1/4 c tomato paste
3 small onions
5 tiny dried hot peppers
2 cubes soy (you can't find cubed soy flavoring at WalMart? Try extra boullion or soy sauce)
1 cabbage
5 c rice
water
2 c oil
~3 T rock salt

Step 1:
Add oil to a very hot pot. When oil is really hot (test by tossing salt in) add fish. (Oh! scale and clean fish. One knife. No running water. Do not cut the belly open.)
Step 2:
Peel garlic. Using only your hands. Crush in the mortar.
Step 3:
Stem and wash tomatoes. Drain. Squish to seed. Separate juice/seeds from "meat" and skins. Add garlic, boullion, tomato paste to meat and skins.
Step 4:
Remove fried (not fully cooked) fish from oil. Set aside. Add tomato garlic mixture to oil. Cook. Add a lot of water and the tomato juice (straining the seeds out). Keep boiling.
Step 5:
In mortar, crush onions and hot peppers and cubed soy (Maggi being the preferred brand).
Step 6:
Quarter cabbage (one knife, remember). Add cabbage and above mixture to the water. Mix. Return fish. Cook until cabbage is just overcooked. Remove fish and cabbage.
Step 7:
Add more water if needed. Bring up to a boil. Add rice. Cover. Add salt to season.
Step 8:
When rice is done, dish it into a large bowl (one of the ones you've already been using). Top with cabbage and fish. Eat with your hands.

Oh. If you are in Africa: The easiest way to remove oil from the plastic sack you bought it in is to melt it on the bottom of the hot pan. Sift rice. Rinse twice. Remove all rice hulls and small seeds and rocks.

If you want to use different veggies you can halve an eggplant or carrot (2 eggplants or 3 carrots), cassava can also be used. If you happen to have a jaxatu, toss that in whole.

Oh! and don't drain off any of the oil that your rice is swimming in.

And I feel inclined to add that this is a rare occassion dish. And while quite tasty, not nearly as tasty as the recipe would indicate.


*jaay fonde: (n) 1- seller of fonde 2-big butt ie: to be a jaay fonde, one must either sell her wares well (and therefore eat well, hence a large butt) or she must eat her own wares (and therefore eat well, hence a large butt)
**Shout of THANK YOU! to Mom, Donna, and Julie!
***Cas rocks as well and has my undying devotion!
****In a side note, bananas are about 90 cents for a kilo, 5 small oranges cost me 35 cents...pretty sweet.
^butik: Imagine the Winston, MT gas station without the gas. A quarter of the size. And 4x the amount of random merchandise.

Wire Stretcher, Staples, Pliers! Anyone?

Okay, so I know I've been lax on this whole blog-thing. I apologize. Now that I've gotten fairly settled, I hope to send out emails, post blogs, upload photos, etc on a much more regular basis. :) Inch' allah!

An example of what I'm up against here:
My toma (namesake) took me with her to one of the women's fields the other day. This is a field which I helped to "clear" a few months ago and is the epitome of the term "marginal space"...full of shrubbery, trees, and very hilly!! They have 4 good-sized pepineres that are quite appropriately covered with netting to keep bugs away. (They planted when I was in Tamba for an Ag Summit). Pulling back the netting, I see very healthy rows of cabbage, carrots, and onions. Very overcrowded. The rows are like little carpets of sprouts. :( Maybe they didn't realize they had bought good seed and had expected the germination rate would be lower. Maybe. Next year, I'll supervise better.
I hear voices coming from over the hill (really, it isn't a big field...just really not suitable for planting since it could maybe be terraced...). And I discover the real purpose of today's mission.
Fencing.
They have been blessed with the funds to buy barbed wire and I note they have leather gloves. Score! However, I notice no other familiar accoutrements. Women are setting about pulling branches off of trees and stripping the bark. Other women are hacking at dead trees with dull axes to cut posts. Others are digging post holes--a small child dutifully digging the dirt out (who needs a P.H.D. when you have a small child?) I want to cry as I watch them build this 6 strand barbed wire fence. 3' tall. Fence posts 2-3' apart. Wire only stretched by hand. Wire tied to the posts with strips of bark.
And I had to stop myself to ask what is better? Or worse? If I were to stop what they were doing, miraculously write a grant, buy steel fence posts and staples and a wire stretcher? If I were to stop what they were doing and have a live fence of thorny shrubs ready for 2 years from now? Or the fence they are building that will last 3 years before termites eat the fenceposts and goats will start slipping through the loose wire immediately?
Not to mention the waste of time, energy and funds. They could have used have as many fence posts and 1/2 as much wire....had they only known how to efficiently build this type of fence.
But what is more sustainable? The quick injection of my money and knowledge? That will need to be refenced in 10-15 years. Does anyone here know how to refence it? The fence they've built will have to be rebuilt 3 times in the next 10-15 years and is more expensive to build. But they did it themselves. Using their own means and methods. And a live fence can't be started at this time of year and takes longer to get established and more training on how to maintain it. And goats might still eat it. :(
There is the real riddle of sustainable development in practice.