Sunday, April 23, 2006

p.s. I'm moving to the Sahara.

Okay, so technically, it's the Sahel, but it's so much cooler to say you live in the Sahara than to say you live in the Sahel.

I found out my post assignment last week, and I'm moving to a town called Sinthiou Garba in the northeastern part of the country, close to the Mauritanian border. When I told my host father where I was going, his face lit up and he said, "Ah, Sinthiou Garba. That is a good town. There are cars there. It is on the paved road." Apparently, it is a town of about 8,000 people. At first, I was a little disappointed not to be placed in a tiny village where I could learn everyone's name, but I think ultimately I will appreciate the amenities available in a bigger town, such as a market. It also has a health post, two primary schools, and a junior high, so I will have people I can work with right away while I'm still getting a handle on Pulaar (only educated people speak French in that part of the country- well, in most rural areas in general). Still don't know too much about the living situation, but I'm hoping for a hut. Because, come on, how cool is it to say you live in a hut? On the other hand, if I live in a batiment (building), I'll probably have electricity, so there are upsides either way.

I spoke to some volunteers who are working in that area and they said the family I'm moving in with is very cool, and that I'm moving in with the family of the village chief. They also said that the people of the town are very excited to have a Peace Corps volunteer and are very motivated, so that was nice to hear because I will have lots of good people to work with. It sounds like the volunteers up there have a strong community, so hopefully I'll get to meet some more cool people I can spend time with so I don't forget English (Don't laugh, it's already a problem. My brain now constructs sentences in a strange nonsensical mix of Pulaar, French, and English, and once in awhile it shorts out and produces random words in Spanish, which is of no use at all.).

I'm really excited about my site and I will tell you all about it when I get there. Three weeks and counting. Gotta get in a lot more Pulaar lessons before that.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Animals seen so far:

Goats
Ducks (deformed looking)
Chickens (scraggly looking)
Dogs (lots, all the same kind)
Cats (lots)
Sheep (that look like goats, and have tails)
Horses (hitched to carts)
Cows (scary looking white ones)
Emu? (some kind of exotic looking bird, anyway, in a hotel in Kedougou (in the southeast region of the country))
Baboons (two, in Kedougou)
Antelope (in Kedougou)
Monkeys (a herd of them, in Kedougou. Coolest animal moment so far.)
Guinea fowl (technically, I didn't see this, only felt it as it slammed into the windshield of our bus on the way back to Thies from Kedougou. I thought we had hit a cow.)

Monday, April 03, 2006

No mbieyete daa?

Mbiyetemi ko Salymata. Njettetemi ko Sall.

What's your name? My name is Salymata. My family name is Sall. My Senegalese family has given me a new name, Salymata. I mention my family name, Sall, because family names and family are very important in Senegal. Senegalese people view themselves as all part of one big family, and acknowledging someone's family is an important way of showing respect.

In my new family, I have four sisters, and one brother... that I've met. I also apparently have two more brothers and a sister who are older and live in Dakar. My sisters are named Aissita (21), Diarra (20), Mariam (19), and Marietou (12). My brother's name is Boum-Oumar, and he is 13 or 14, I think. My father's name is Oumar Sall and my mother's name is Aminata Lih.

I'm closest to the sisters, and spend most of my time with them. Aissita is the quietest, and 'le plus sage,' I think. Diarra is the most mischievous, and also my closest ally in my quest to learn Pulaar. She cracks me up and is a slave driver on the vocab words. Mariam is the most confident and the Senegalese equivalent of a teenage social butterfly. Marietou is the sweetest and the best dancer.

Boum-Oumar is like a little monkey, always doing gymnastics around the house and has the funniest, widest grin. My father is a retired French teacher, a pious Muslim, and a very kind man. My mother has the happiest smile.

As for me, I speak the worst Pulaar. But the family seems to like me nonetheless, and hopefully I will master the language soon so I can distinguish myself within the family in my own way.