Cuisine

One of the aspects of Lizzie's visit I was really looking forward to was the food. Both in timing and variety. Although I don't know how exciting it has been for her, I have quite enjoyed going out and even enjoying some occasional dessert. At home this past week my host mom prepared us a great "salade ordinare" but for me it always feels extra ordinary. 

Also last night Lizzie had her first Senegalese "dibi" experience. Dibiterie or "dibi" for short is barbecued meat in an open fire often in seldom washed pits (for flavor). We went to "Sans Rival" in Thies, a choice location for Peace Corps volunteers dining-in and Senegalese nationals take-out. As you can see, the atmosphere is just right for those romantic nights with that special someone. 

In addition to the food, travels have been good and my host family has been very kind. So much so that they are getting a little aggravated at me every time I steal "Lizzette" away from Mboro. We are both here in Thies for another night to watch the USA vs. Ghana World Cup game with some friends. Tomorrow we are back at site to enjoy family time, work, henna, hair braiding, and some surprises. 

Good times rollin'

I'm very pleased to say that Lizzie is still healthy and sane. She is slowly emerging herself into the culture, meeting my families, and trying local foods. Highlights include:

First sept-place ride

First cheb-u-gen

Baby holding

And attaya!

The good times are rolling. Lizzie is catching me up on terrible American pop music while I rant about a wide range of topics on my mind. I think we both would not change a thing. Moments of normalcy are becoming almost a daily occurrence and spirits are high. Feeling blessed. 

The girl has landed!

As much as I hate pausing in the moment to update the world on my emotions, right now seems particularly notable. Lizzie has arrived! We are currently at the French Institute in Dakar enjoying another red martini and some great live music. Cheers to some of the best feelings I've had in quite some while. 

Disappointed

So I will start this by saying that it's meant to be a direct criticism of only myself. In fact I am even a little reluctant to write this post as it's not really my style of saying these things. But here it is since the feelings are fresh in my mind. I am in Senegal. And I've been wanting to say this for a while. My problem with aid:

I've been thinking about how to phrase this blog for months. I have told myself not to offend people and to be careful what I say to the (maybe) broad and opinionated audience reading my posts. But I think very recent events will serve as a great example for what needs to be said. A few weeks ago PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) in Senegal were contacted asking if they would like any soccer balls given to our country through some organization. My site mate and I said "yeah, sure" thinking there are plenty of schools here and plenty of kids who would like soccer balls. Fast forward a few weeks and I have 5 soccer balls and no idea what to do with them. I quickly realize how bad of an idea it is to just give these out. I want to do it in a way that does not look like I'm simply giving away free goods but I still need to take pictures of these kids with the soccer balls for the organization. So weeks go by and my little brother keeps asking me for one. 

Finally one day my mom comes to me and asks if a group of boys could have a ball for some planned activity the following afternoon. I figure, that's a good way to do this, have kids share it. So they get a ball. I take pictures. They play with the ball. And thanks to this, every day, every time I pass a kid in the surrounding kilometer of my house I get asked for a ball. That is not an exaggeration. Now I can deal with the question. I get requests like that almost 10 times a day from grown men and kids alike. It's a product of this joking culture and me being perceived as a rich "Toubab." What I get furious about though is the attitude behind these requests. By giving out this soccer ball I have contributed to the barrier of good work here in Senegal: the idea that "Toubabs" will give you things and you do not need to pay for them. 

I have had this conversation many times with Senegalese friends who understand my situation here. And I even got a sense of this before I came into the Peace Corps. But what I'm realizing more and more is that foreign aid that simply gives goods out is terrible for a community. I am not usually polarizing on issues like this but I now feel very strongly that way and want you all to know. So I'll repeat. Foreign aid that simply gives goods out is terrible for a community. To clarify what I mean exactly; 'foreign' in the fashion that it does not really know the country it's helping. It does not know the culture, language, or true needs. And like wise the host country does not know the donor or it's reasons for giving. 'Simply' means the gift is not accompanied by any knowledge or taught ability to get more of the good in the future. 'Goods' are finished products that have no ability to add capacity to a country. 'Terrible' is exactly what I mean to say. These communities end up worse off than if nothing happened at all. Not only does the good not last long but the community is left with the trash, the false perceptions, and the dependence. It is damaging in SO many ways. There is the attitude it leaves of dependence. That is harder to prove. But what I can prove is the awful prospect it creates for true investment. What legitimate company or entrepreneur can possibly thrive in a place where it's customers would rather wait out the next foreign giving session? None. 

The last of the negative I have to say is that I am very guilty of this. Years ago I started The Running Exchange (which I still believe has potential for a few reasons. To be continued...). But the main purpose of that was to send used running shoes to Kenya and to relieve some of the personal guilt I had. I did not research where they were going. I did not learn if anything else would work better. It was ignorant. Like I said, Kenya ended up with shoes that won't last, thankfulness to this mystery kid from CT, and no increased capacity. And now I'm in Senegal and nothing is continued. So, failure. 

But what can we do about this? Here's the good news. Help locally. Find an organization in your own community that has identified a need and solves it with local goods and local people power. This is the very best approach if you truly want to give to those who are in unfortunate positions. But if you really feel that you want to help Africa or developing countries on other continents, please do your research. If you are coming here please learn some local culture, language, and norms. And most importantly understand the needs of the community and assess the potential impacts of your work. If your option is monetary giving, the Peace Corps is a great option alongside host country-run NGOs, or American NGOs working in capacity building. This is why the bulk of my work here is in information sharing and market linkages. I will be helping some people in great financial need but only with the understanding that I work on useable skills with them afterwards. Because this is what lasts long and contributes to development. Knowledge and information get people ahead here. Not soccer balls and not used shoes.

My First Ngenté

I just recently attended my first Senegalese naming ceremony or what's known as "Ngenté" in Wolof. I was fortunately given the cultural play-by-play from my friend and work partner Pape (pronounced 'pop') who invited me to come along. It was actually a pretty low-key affair considering how often these family gatherings evolve into large boisterous dance parties. We arrived to the event around 10AM. The baby's name had not been announced yet. Pape told me it is typical of Senegalese people to wait a week or two before announcing the name to friends and family at a party like this. So around 11:30 the "grands" (important older family members) came to the party to sit down and "waxtan" or discuss about family matters. The  name was announced as Baya Senghor and officially the party was over. But there was still much waxtan to do and food to eat. So the grands sat for another hour and a half to discuss and a dish called laxh was served to the crowd. It is a base of cooked millet balls (a little like grits) and topped with a sour milk and copious sugar mix. When I had this stuff for the first time back in October I was not too happy with it. But now, I love the stuff! I had two large bowls and didn't feel too good afterwards. But luckily I had some time to wait before lunch. 

After the sheep was ceremoniously slaughtered, Pape and I went on a long walk to work up our appetites. We came back to a pleasant smell filling the house and making all the sitting men salivate. Once we had eaten our fill of 'cheb u yapp' or rice and meat we said our goodbyes and made for the walk home. 

I had been to many gatherings before this one. I had even dressed up in a similar fashion and eaten similar foods with friends. But something about this reminded me so much of family celebrations back in America. The atmosphere was almost parallel. I met family from all over the country. And although quite complicated by different men having multiple wives, I just got the sense everyone had their roots in that place. There were crazy uncles, unruly children, hard working mothers, and the usual mixture of love and political disagreements. It made me miss that feeling back home. With Easter approaching I am a little sensitive to pick up on these things. But just like this large family I got to be a part of today, I know my family in he US will be thinking of me. The Ngenté gave me a deep sense of the universal bond families have. We can be across the world but distance and time haven't separated me from that sense of connectedness. 

New Endeavor

      Today I started on an endeavor I've been looking forward to for a while. I am starting a mini garden next to my new house. It turns out I was a little ambitious in the planning because the soil is a little bit rockier than anticipated. But regardless I think we will end up with something nice in the end. Here is the "before" picture. 

Been Awful Crazy

       As I write I lay quietly on the floor surrounded by a mess of clothes and a head full of emotions. But I'm happy. Here's a little more about how I got this way:

       About a month ago I started out on the long journey that was our second round of training. It started with language seminar where I learned that I still don't know squat about Wolof. From there we ventured into some "optional" seminars including all-volunteer conference and the West African International Softball Tournament in Dakar. I say "optional" because they just seemed too much fun to possibly pass up. I saw many people I've been missing and enjoyed some western pleasures I've been missing. Most notable: warm clean shower and pizza. 

     After our few days of Dakar galavanting and reality altering we returned to our training center in Thies for 2 weeks of constant learning and little sleep. After about 100 hours of sitting in classrooms, listening to lectures, and being fueled by Nescafe alone, we were deemed fit to begin working in our respective towns, villages, and cities. Goodbyes were bitter-sweet. We all love each other but it was a long time to be cramped in one place with 55 grumpy compatriots. For me going back was a little complicated though. There was some trouble waiting in my beachside paradise. 

    For many reasons I have decided to switch homes. I was having some struggles in the old one that I was trying to work through but ultimately decided were not worth the anxiety. After going back and forth for weeks, laying awake in bed one night I asked myself, "do you want to live here?" And as you might have guessed, the answer was no. There are many difficulties inherit in the work here and I have been navigating them every day. I finally realized that it was not healthy for me to be facing even more challenges in my own home. So I made this aware to my good friend Talla Diop of the Peace Corps and over the course of training they arranged for me to move. And last night I did! Which I why I'm surrounded by clothes, sleeping on the floor, full of emotion, and couldn't be happier. 

      TBC, I have lots to say and lots to show. 

With peace,

                   *Omar Senghor 

PS, please pray that the third name sticks.