Alot has happened since I got here on the 27th of September. We started training right away, learning survival skills in the most dominant language of the country, Wolof, so that we could travel across the country to visit another Peace Corps Volunteer at his/her village. Another trainee Sarah and I were sent to a village near the southeastern city tambacounda, one of the hottest places in Senegal. We stayed with a couple, a female ag volunteer and a male agroforestry volunteer. It was pretty rad, in retrospect. I saw a lot of cool things...the PCVs (peace corps volunteers) we were staying with spoke the language of the village really well and knew so many people. They had planted a corn field and had been successful. I pulled water from a well and carried it on my head, woo hoo!

There is a high possibility in fact, that I will never have to do that again, because it sounds like my future site will have tap water.Yeah, about that, the trainers here, which is almost an entirely Senegalese staff, are keeping our future village sites a mystery. I'm not sure at all where I will be going. But I know I will be living with the Seereer ethnicity, because I am learning Seereer. It is one of the harder languages, and I think they assigned me to it because I am younger than everyone (not by much), and they think younger people have an easier time learning new languages. I hear the Seereers like to have a good time. My teacher is seereer and she is really loud and always joking around. They love to sing and dance, many of the senegalese in the "musician" caste have last names that are Seereer names. The verb for "to believe" in seereer is also the same verb for "to sing"! They love it when I sing here. It is so much fun! There is a pct next door to me, our homestays are right next to eachother, and he brings his guitar over sometimes to sing and play together. I can't wait to learn Seereer songs! But no joke, seereer is kind of a tough language. Well, there aren't that many verbs or words, there isn't even a dictionary, and i've heard from some that it is a dying language. But the sounds are hard to make. They have 3 different ways to sound the consonant n. And numbers are a trip, to say 28 I have to say xarbentik fo betufitadik! And the numbers change depending on what you're counting! I'm having a good time with my homestay. The homestay will last 7 more weeks and then we get dropped off in a village.I have a host mom, four older brothers, two older sisters and one younger sister. And 4 bedrooms. They are incredibly nice and welcoming. They talk to me so much! I'm not practicing my seereer really because it's such a pleasure to talk to them in french, to actually get to know them and their ideas about life, marriage, religion, president wade, everything. It would be harder if I could only speak seereer. It's going to be hard at first in the village. My family here in Thies is well educated. One older brother teaches french, the other teaches Math and science. My older brother Moussa is my favorite. He is studying english and loves beyonce and alicia keys. He pirates their music videos from online. That and a lot of 50 cent and BET videos. I taught him the words to "Soldier" by Destiny's Child and he was happy. He and my younger sister, Oumi, make me dance all the time so they can make fun of me. Senegalese dance is hard! You have to move your feet really fast, wave your arm around, shake your but a lot and lift up your shirt just above your belly button, all at the same time! I must look like a frog receiving shock therapy when I do it, because they really crack up. The family is so cool here, because my mom is really laid back and sort of kooky, she is always cracking jokes in Seereer that I don't understand. She is the daughter of a man who had 17 wives. MMM hmm. It's like that....it is still a strong tradition here for men to have more than one wife. The family next door shares the same father I do. It is common for moms in the village to have roughly 6 or 7 children. In the village, it's much more! around 11-15! I wonder what my host bros are thinking when they tell me these things! I know they don't expect I would want to have seven children or share my husband. they do think it is the norm for senegalese women, but they don't tell me that they think it should be the norm. So I don't know what their opinion is. I don't cook or clean around the house, and I talk politics etc with them, so I'm not sure how they see me. I actually get the impression that it is hard to marry into this society, if you are white. I dunno!
The family next door shares the same father I do. It is common for moms in the village to have roughly 6 or 7 children. In the village, it's much more! around 11-15! I wonder what my host bros are thinking when they tell me these things! I know they don't expect I would want to have seven children or share my husband. they do think it is the norm for senegalese women, but they don't tell me that they think it should be the norm. So I don't know what their opinion is. I don't cook or clean around the house, and I talk politics etc with them, so I'm not sure how they see me. I actually get the impression that it is hard to marry into this society, if you are white. I dunno!

you are even uglier than president wade

I'm getting closer and closer to my Senegalese family and trust them and enjoy their company very much. I only have one week left of my "sit in your village and learn language and don't do any serious work phase", which is a relief, because it's very hard to wake up every morning and and have to plan the entire day, for é and a half months, in a place where there is nothing but houses and countryside. As Americans, we would go to the gym, to class, meet with friends,or to buy something from the store when we have free time. Thats not really possible in my village. So, after being very proactive and introducing myself to most everybody in the village for the first month at site, for the second month I spent a lot of time just walking out on the paths into the fields and enjoying the sight of the thick thorny baobab's and the white cranes on the lily pads, and the far out gardens with palm and banana and orange trees that look like an oasis after walking through the sandy paths flanked by dried millet stalks.

I have gotten a Seereer tutor in the closest town, he teaches at the french school, so we can communicate really well, and it's nice to interact with someone who has been to univesity. He tells me traditional stories, translates the meanings of songs and proverbs for me, and teaches me seereer games. There is this one game thats sort of like telling riddles, because there is a set call and response, "Ma saloum al saloum" and everyone says "Gang" and then is quiet because they know an elder is about to deliver some wisdom. One of the ones I like is " if you go down one path, you will come back on the same".
Seereer words continue to amuse me, like the word for "dirty post-washing laundy water" and the other word for "chubby baby cheeks". My sisters ask me how to say chubby baby cheeks in English and I have to tell them there is no one word for it, they are a little confused afterwards.

And now, wierdly and unexpectedly enough, Ive started to enjoy how every single man under 30 years old will say when they first meet you "do you love me? I want to marry you", because I realize now it's really just a test to see how witty and crushing you can be in your refusal. THey do it to SEnegalese women all the time, too. I'm running out of responses that are humiliating, I usually say " I already have 4 husbands"; "I dont cook or clean, youd have to"; "I dont want you!" ; "I have no time"; "I work too much"; "I have a husband in the states."..and so on. I need to start saying, "you are too ugly for me." Which I hear they think is very funny. Anyone have other suggestions?

This is a strange sexually repressed country where women cant show their legs in daily wear but where all popular dancing in music videos involves lots of gyrating and straddling and pulling up your skirt and you name it. And where market vendors everywhere, even ones that stroll through my village and sell directly door to door to compound, unashamedly selling items called bin bins and petit panyas. If I havent yet explained these two items, it's because i previously had a modesty that's been now corrupted by the overabundance and normality of these two things here. Bin bins are beads that go around your belly, and a petit panya is a skirt full of holes that women wear to excite their husbands, particularly by wearing nothing but hte skirt and the beads and bending over to light incense right in front of their reclining husbands. I've been told thats how its done. They all, even little girls wear bin bins and constantly tease eachother about being able to hear them when they walk.



Yeah so work.... I'm trying hard not to get discouraged, and continuosly hope that soon I will do some meaningful work with people. Now I will have to wait until March when I come back to the village after training to start any projects. It's difficult, because often people express interest in literacy or English or French classes, and Id love to teach them, but they might forget about that interest the next day. When I try to ask them what time of day might be good, I get vague answers. The same is true with this wood-conserving mud stove project I'm trying to kick off. I got one built, and its working. So, as my Dad said, maybe the word will spread to other women in the village and they'll get serious about making one with me.

what a tough deal women get

Xmas is celebrated here too. But really only the santa claus aspect, which is fitting considering all the national languages have no word for please but two imperatives for "give me". But the Senegalese will always give you what they have, even if its the only small glass of tea they brought to the fields with them.

So the first discovery about Senegalese culture I want to relay to you, and the thing that Mr. Paul Gallimore wanted me to tell him about, is the way men and women comport themselves. It is verrrry interesting. The ladies here basically are all homebodies, at least if they are in the village. They wake up to pound millet for breakfast at 5 am, usually the strongest women of the household cook. My host sisters, who are the wives of my brothers, take turns on cooking every two days. The little girls get water by the basin and sweep dirt into dirt while the women cook. It's such a funny thing they do, and I think they think I'm loopy because I don't sweep my sandy back yard. I guess its their form of "lawn maintenance" since there is no grass. It's sort of like those asian sand garderns with rocks and a rake. Except they use this small hand broom made out of dried stalks, and they sweep up loose leaves, candy wrappers, general trash; animal poop, and y know, loose dirt.
When the women aren't cooking, they're taking care of babies. This is a baby baby everywhere kind of place. It's sort of sad also, because their number one health issue is pre natal care and proper nutrition with babies. They especially have issues during the rainy season, when malaria hits. Im sort of scared to be here for that.
And the women, this is is wierdest thing, while they are so strong, and definitely enforce their heirarchy on me at times (as in assuming i cant carry water or wash clothes), they are so non aggressive when it comes to men. My fav sister here, Seynabou, she hasn't seen her husband in 6 months. And while shes usually a real tough cookie she turned into a little girl when he came back, clapping and smiling. And she was telling me how when he met her, down in Casamance on her fathers ship, he said he "wanted" or "liked" or "loved" her - there is only one verb to describe thse three feelings- and that was that, she left her home, a full days journey away to live permanantly in a strange village. And her mom warned her to do everything so that she might stay. She doesnt even know her husbands age, but knows hes nearing 40, she is 22. The women here, even tough they leave home to live with their husbands, they get to go backhome for a year after they have their baby and chill out there all year. Its sort of a form of birth control, I think. I think the women here are scared that if they dont cook tasty enough meals, if they dont make tea and have healthy children for their husbands and so on; theyll get kicked out. Which is what happened with my host dads three other wives.

Ah my host dad. What a guy. He comes rollin into town last week and has loved inspecting my room and the way ive organized things. Im taking it that he just wants to be kind. But this morning Ive packed up all my things and I leave my hut to say good morning before heading out of town, and he says, "Fatou, after you wash your face and get dressed, you must come and greet me every morning" and I said to him "You can do the same!" and tried to pull it off with laughing. But I dont know if Im going to get away with joking around with the elder male of the house. he wasnt there when I greeted everyone first thing in the morning, tough luck! Whos to say he cant take the 6 meter journey to cross the compound and frapp on my door to wish me good morning? hmm?


.I basically avoid men here. Its pretty much impossible to be just friends with any of them. It just doesnt work. They're such predators!- Excuse the cliche, but as a woman here you cant have polite conversation with taxi drivers, postal workers, grocery store clerks, farmers, boys ove the age of 13. This attitude starts young. Before long they start leaning into you, saying that they "have to talk to you about something later". I make sure that later never happens! Its ok though, because its making me focus on working with women. I just wish sometimes that there was way for women to be viewed otherwise... like nuns in the occident. I dont think this concept exists here - you cant be a "holy woman". Women cant even pray in sight of men, and they often dont even go to the mosque for the big prayer days. I wish I could don a habit sometimes just so guys will immediately think I am off limits and here to do serious work. Such as accidently pour kerosene on my garden ( it looks like water!) or build a fence around my tiny 2 by 2 garden out of twigs.

Im not worried, the real work will begin. Ive got a kickin village map ive made and know a lot of people. I am also starting to understand that the womens group here also has some kind of joint bank account which soon Ill hopefully be able to understand why theyre not all using it. I think its an issue of they like the flexibility of having their personal fgardens and their personal incomes rather than sharing... well see. Oh, funny language things. I think my host sisters taught me how to say " Im not a hussy" to the teenage boys, which is helpful. I also said yesterday "I must drool my fence" rather than "I must finish my fence". My sisters got a kick out of that. Im continuing to learn seereer songs and were continuing to have sing a longs when the power goes out.