A Storm in Senegal

July 11th 2009
10:07

How you experience a storm in Senegal, is different than how you would
in the States. How people live here, even in the cities is full of
fresh air. Airconditioning is a grand luxury. A fan is only for those
with electricity and money to slowly burn. Most people escape the heat
by the shade of a large tree, beautifully woven hand fans and ataaya,
a thick tea infused with copious amounts of sugar. One finds here that
life is at the mercy of the natural elements. Instead of the Western
conviences that shield humans from nature, people are forced to adapt
to whatever nature throws their way. To me, the rainy season is the
perfect example of this.

In Kolda in the Casamance, the land is so flat that you can see the
storm coming from miles away. You can see flashes of lightening for
hours. As the storm gets closer the bolts of lightening almost seem to
surround you, there is no rain. You expect that at any moment the wave
of water will hit you but it doesn't happen. It's an optical illusion.
The real storm is still far away.
You know that the moment of truth is coming when you feel a strong
cold breeze. The breeze will suddenly negate all of the sweating that
occured in the proceding moments. You'll wake up and know that the
game has changed. No longer are you looking to beat the humid heat and
trying to ventitlate your sweatbox but now you must seal your room
against the elements and those things that are trying to escape the
down pour. You jump on your feet. Run outside and grab anything that
will be ruined by the dampness. You close your shutters just enough to
stop most of the rain but to still allow alittle air in. You tie down
anything that will bang around in the wind and leave you sleep
deprived nor do you want to batten it down midstorm.
Finally you close your door. You stuff the bottom of the door with
rags to block any invaders that have found their homes flooded and
wish to be a guest in yours. After this it is time to go back into
your bed. You tuck the mosquito net into the edges of the bed which is
another layer of protection from the creepy crawlies. You lay on your
bed and listen to the pitter patter of the storm as it grows. You feel
little sprays of water that have some how made it through the window,
through the screen and through the mosquito net. You hope that the
plastic tarp above your bed that you carefully arranged is going to
stop all the leaks from the old zinc roof.
You lay on your bed listening to all of the clamor outside. The pang
of raindrops on the roof vary from little pin drops to the sound of an
endless supply of pennies that God has cast away.
The sound of wind in the mango trees, thunder and the rythme of rain
act as a lullabye while you lay there. You think about how late the
rains are this year. You wonder if your friends in the village will
have enough food to feed their families this coming year. You wonder
if God is good and life is fair. You slowly drift away to sleep as the
storm rages. A large bang half roases you, you wonder if a long rotten
mango has finally succumbed to the downward call of gravity. You hear
the winds blow, you wonder if the mango tree is next to fall on your
hut. At this moment it doesn't matter to you, its not your place to
worry about it, Si Allah Jaabi, if God wills it. You fall asleep in a
dreamless slumber.

Reflective Mood

July 10th 2009
17:05

Another day in Kolda. Went around to my gardens. I've been in a
reflective mood lately. I found a quote by the Dalai Lama about growth
in population and poverty.

"The growth in population is very much bound up with poverty, and in
turn poverty plunders the earth. When human groups are dying of
hunger, they eat everything, grass, insects, everything. They cut down
trees, they leave the land dry and bare. All other concerns vanish.
That's why in the next thirty years the problems we call
'environmental' will be the hardest ones humanity will face."

It's a striking statement to me. It reminds me of a quote by John
Steward Mill- roughly that "Development is always subsidized by the
environment." Whether this sustainable development or maldevelopment,
the environment is always effected.

(Pg. 31, Violence and Compassion by The Dalai Lama, 1994)

Good Days

July 7th 2009
19:48

As for my mental health, as always there are the good days and the bad
days. Life has definitely gotten easier since my language level has
become more functional. Also partly much of life here has become
ordinary. There are part of it that you love and some of it that you
hate.
For instance, I often feel more comfortable around local Senegalese
than other volunteers. I don't know what it is or why I feel that way.
Part of it might be that for the most part, locals are much less
stressed out.

Long Time Since Posting

July 7th 2009
7:04pm

It might have been about a year since I've written on this thing. Alot
has changed. For instance, I've made the move from being a rural
volunteer into being an urban one. I moved into the city of Kolda to
do Urban Gardening Work. To make a long story short, I moved because
there were some great work opportunities in Kolda to make a big
impact. In the village, I really had the feeling that they didn't
really want another volunteer, they just wanted all the nice perks
that went along with having one. I still go back to visit my friends
every few weeks. It's hard though. There are just so many issues here.
So much poverty, sickness and pain. It's a country that doesn't have
many of the luxuries or conviences of the Western world. Much of the
time I feel guilty that I can't do more or I don't have the efficacy
to effect more change. As a RPCV I heard speak recently said, "As a
volunteer, you are often asked to do things outside of your
competency... like brain surgery with a butter knife."

In Kolda, I have a number of gardens which I work with. Here are just
a few of them. There is a nutritional garden for HIV/AIDS patients and
well as about half a dozen small individual gardens for those
patients. I visit the HIV/AIDS garden at the hospital nearly everyday
while for the individual gardens, I stop by them roughly once or twice
a week.

Also I advice a large scale market garden a few miles outside of town.
It is operated by a Spanish NGO named YARAMA. It is financed by a
group of Spanish doctors and administered by a group of local Pulaars
that have ties and family in Spain. The market garden operates about 7
kilometers outside of Kolda in the village of Sibere Koyo. It is run
like a cooperative garden association. There are about 28 individuals
that work plots. Last year in addition to typical local garden crops,
they grew carrots, potatoes and cabbage. I consider these to be more
sophisticated crops because of the pests here. The first year has been
very successful. I know the second year will be even better. They will
be less rushed and can concentrate on running the garden more
intensively.

My experience with the Spanish NGO and their garden project has given
me faith in 'grassroots' development where locals are running the
show. Sometimes I think volunteers control the project too much and
don't let their workpartners feel like they own the project.